


The Apocalypse Killed the Video Star

by crownjules



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Comedy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Violence, Preteen Baekhyun, Romance, Slow Burn, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-15 09:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownjules/pseuds/crownjules
Summary: It turns out, no one really cares if you were famous before the world ended.





	The Apocalypse Killed the Video Star

**Author's Note:**

> ahh i'm so grateful for this fest because it gave me the opportunity to write this idea i've had banging around in my head for years and the motivation to actually finish it. i want to thank the mods for all their hard work, j,s, and c for helping me fix plot holes and never failing to hype me up when i got down on myself and a big shout out to k for being with me every step of the way and letting me whine to her nonstop ily

It's been three months since the world ended. Though, truthfully, the signs had been there long before; mysterious deaths and strange acts of cannibalism, speculation that the world was just getting crazier, and this was just one more strange chapter for history books. Three months since the deaths became more and more frequent, until the government couldn’t cover it up anymore. Three months since the day that tensions had finally boiled over and the world descended into chaos. 

Thousands of years of history, a few weeks of build-up, and then...nothing. 

It’s been three months since the world ended, but it’s only been two months and twenty-nine days since Kim Jongin’s manager shoved him into a supply closet at a concert hall and promised he’d be back soon. It took another agonizing six hours and eighteen minutes for Jongin to realize that he had been abandoned. 

 

 

The sounds of looters had long since died when he finally poked his head out of the closet, eyes scanning the ground littered with trampled signs bearing his name, broken lightsticks, and other bits of garbage. Many of the chairs were overturned; others scattered around haphazardly. 

The first one he saw must have been one of his fans. She looked young, maybe fifteen, and her shirt had his own face on it. Jongin stared her down as she ambled closer to him, nearly frozen in fear. There was blood smeared over her mouth, reminiscent of a baby just after they finished a bowl of spaghetti. 

Jongin had the craziest thought that she wanted to eat him. 

He shuffled back, trying to keep as much distance as possible from her, nearly tripping on an upturned chair. He was just about to open his mouth to ask her what she wanted from him when a piercing shriek sounded from somewhere to the left of him. 

The shriek came with the appearance of a second girl, nearly the same age as the first. A blue headband with KAI written in funky block letters was perched on her head, it swayed back and forth when she ran straight to Jongin and clung to his arm. 

“Kai, you have to come with me!” She pulled at his arm unsuccessfully. “Please!” 

Jongin was prepared to ask her just what the hell was going on, but he barely had time to open his mouth--let alone warn her--before the first girl finally made it to them and sunk her teeth into the second girl’s shoulder. 

So Jongin was right; she _was_ hungry. 

Jongin has had experience with rabid fans, but this was a whole new level. He backed himself up against the wall as far as he could go and threw his hands over his ears in an attempt to drown out the screams of the dying girl. A small part of his mind that was still rational told him that he’d be next if he didn’t do something. 

Besides some weak folding chairs, the next best thing he found was a stanchion. He quickly unhooked the rope and grabbed it. It was heavier than he expected but he hoped it was enough.

When Jongin approached the girl again, he wondered why he even thought she was human in the first place. Her eyes were covered in a white film, her skin graying and translucent. An inhuman growling sounded like it was coming from somewhere in the back of her throat. It took everything in him to not puke when she raised her head from her prey, chunks of flesh hanging from her mouth grotesquely. He had to kill her. 

Every piece of media he had ever consumed had taught him to aim for the head, so he lifted the stanchion as high as he possibly could and brought it swinging down full force. There was a sickening crunch of metal on bone and then she was still. Jongin swung it again for good measure and then another for the girl who had tried to save him--just in case.

Once he was sure they were both dead--and no longer undead--he leaned over and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach. 

_There’s something strange happening to some people. Stay here and we’ll come get you when it’s safe._ He hadn’t known what to expect when his manager had thrown him into the closet.

But now, it didn’t look like it would ever be safe and he knew for a fact they weren’t coming back for him. Of course they would have ditched him the first chance they got. 

He didn’t know what to expect, but the events earlier told him everything he needed.

Zombies. 

 

 

Fending for himself is not easy. In fact, Jongin hasn’t done anything for himself since he was fourteen. That’s when he was scouted by his agency and was deemed to have so much talent and potential that everything had been handed to him on a silver platter ever since. Fourteen year old Jongin had gotten swept up in the tide of things. When you’re constantly told that you’re the best, you start to act like you’re the best.

The nation fell in love when Jongin finally made his debut at the age of sixteen, fresh faced and full of promise. Working under the stage name Kim Kai, Jongin was breaking hearts every time he thrust his hips on stage only to later smile shyly in interviews. And once he conquered the stage, the next goal was the screen. 

As his fame grew so did his head. It didn’t take long for the whispers to swirl among staff members that the young star was...difficult. Most opted for the term brat, for his managers were always faced with impossible demands coupled with youthful arrogance. It was nearly a shame that the boy was so talented; because anyone who dared to speak out was almost certainly fired within the week. 

But in a cruel twist of fate (some would say karma) the end of the world didn’t look so favorably upon the young star. Some survivors were taken with him until the point where they realized that their odds of survival were better without him. The stage had changed, but Jongin’s act hadn’t.

It’s why, now, Jongin is wandering, tired and hungry, and completely on his own.

 

 

Jongin chances upon a small grocery store, windows broken and nearly looted empty, but it seems clear of the dead. He decides to poke around inside in case there’s anything left worth eating.

What’s left of the perishable foods has long since rotted. Jongin gags on his way past the deli counter, and scours his way through to the non-perishable foods. There actually seems to be a little promise here for someone who knows what they’re doing in a kitchen. Jongin had never bothered to learn though. He doubts he could even make a bowl of noodles. 

In the next aisle, he finds a box of cereal shoved to the back of the shelf. The top is caved in when he pulls it out, and Jongin scowls when he reads the label. Raisin Bran--he hates raisins. If Manager Jung were here, Jongin would hand the box over and tell him to pick them out. 

He supposes he really has no other option. He settles himself on top of the checkout lane, deciding it’s not nearly as grimy as the floor, stretching his legs out on the conveyor belt, and starts munching. 

He chews slowly, drawing out the crunch of each flake. His fingers tap a beat against the counter restlessly. God, the apocalypse is so boring. 

Jongin huffs and flops down on his back, head hanging off the back of the conveyor belt. There’s a magazine rack on the shelf behind the register, filled to the brim with the celebrity gossip of three months ago. _All lies_ Jongin thinks, but he spies a familiar face on the cover of one so he rights himself to get a better look. It’s his own--wearing a suit and one of his famous swoon worthy smiles. It’s probably from his latest movie premiere. 

There’s nothing better to do anyway, so Jongin grabs the magazine and heads back to his spot, making himself comfortable. The cover had said something about a dating scandal, so he flips to the indicated page to see what bullshit they concocted this time. 

**_KIM KAI AND LEE TAEMIN SEEN HOLDING HANDS AS THEY WALK ALONG THE HAN RIVER_ **

Jongin snorts. As if he would ever date Taemin. 

(They were brought up together in the company--always rivals, never quite friends. Taemin was always jealous when Jongin came out on top. He probably did have a thing for Jongin though. He wouldn’t be the first.

In another life they could be friends.)

The picture that accompanies the article is grainy, and it looks as though it was taken from more than fifty yards away. But when Jongin peers at it closely he’s almost certain it isn’t him. These are probably just some poor closeted lookalikes they snapped a photo of to verify the claims of their story. He shrugs and flips the page. 

 

 

“Wakey wakey.” 

Jongin starts when there’s a soft caress of fingers across his cheek. He hadn’t even realized that he had fallen asleep. Lucky as he was that none of the dead had stumbled upon him, that luck didn’t seem to extend to his situation at present. 

He opens his eyes to a man peering down at him, a smile on his face that borders on creepy. 

“Good morning, princess,” He says. His terrible breath is suffocating. Jongin does his best to maneuver away. “You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

He licks his lips and Jongin shudders. 

“Is he awake?” The man moves away from Jongin at the sound of a second voice and Jongin scrambles to sit up and put as much space between him and them as possible. 

There’s two men and a woman all together. The one who woke him up is tall and skinny, with greasy bangs plastered to his forehead. There’s a bowie knife in his hand that Jongin hadn’t noticed earlier. 

The second man is just as tall, though quite a bit wider--obviously their leader with the way Greasy bangs and the woman keep glancing at him as if waiting for instructions. The woman is smaller than both of them, but Jongin sees the gun strapped to her waist. They have Jongin cornered at the end of the checkout lane when the leader speaks. 

“What do you have for us, boy?”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

“Is that so?” Jongin nods, not really understanding what they want from him. “We’ve already taken what we need, but we were hoping that there was something special you could offer us.” 

“None of this is mine anyway,” he counters, still confused, “I was just passing through.”

“What’s that there, then?” The leader nods to the box of Raisin Bran Jongin had been using as a pillow. “I thought you said you didn’t have anything.”

“It’s just a box of cereal.”

“And it’s ours now.” Greasy bangs says, advancing on him with grabby hands.

Jongin isn’t sure what possesses him to clutch the box tighter and say, “It’s mine.” But he sure as hell didn’t pick out all of these raisins for some gross old guys to take them away. 

Their leader steps forward, pulling out a gun. He places the barrel against Jongin’s head. Great, now Jongin’s going to die over some fucking raisins. 

His life is, momentarily, saved when the woman taps their leader on the shoulder and hands him the magazine with Jongin’s face on it. It must have fallen to the floor when he was sleeping. 

Greasy bangs studies the magazine over the leader’s shoulder. Glancing up at Jongin every so often to compare. 

“I knew he looked familiar.” He says, licking his lips. ”Had his pretty face hangin’ on the wall in my daughter’s bedroom.” He approaches Jongin again, knife in hand. “If only she were alive I could get your autograph. Then maybe she wouldn’t think I was such a shit father. No wonder you’re so pretty. You know, pretty things don’t last so long anymore.”

The man has advanced on him while he spoke, dragging the tip of the knife lightly across Jongin’s cheek. He scrunches his eyes in fear. 

“Three on one is hardly a fair fight, don’t you think?” 

A new voice joins in; not belonging to one of the three people standing before Jongin. It’s also deep and the words are spoken with a softness that edges on the side of dangerous. 

At the intrusion, the thugs turn their attention to the newcomer, though Greasy Bangs doesn’t lower the knife. Jongin cracks an eye to get a look at the person the voice belongs to. 

He’s leaning against the door jamb casually, dressed in all black. A dirty grey baseball hat is pulled low over his eyes, a black mask covering the rest of his face. There’s a wooden _Louisville Slugger_ in his right hand. He’s holding it by the sweet spot and tapping it against his shoulder like he’s bored. 

“Fuck off, shortstuff, we’re busy.” 

While the boss man isn’t wrong--the newcomer can’t be more than 5’8--the man strikes Jongin as someone you shouldn’t mess with. 

“I didn’t know being dicks was considered busy. Leave him alone.”

The knife drops from Jongin’s cheek when the man with greasy bangs spins to turn his whole attention to the new man. Jongin tries to take the chance to put a few inches between them, but the man grips Jongin’s shoulder to let him know he hasn’t forgotten about him. 

“And what are _you_ going to do? Beat us with a stick?”

Greasy Bangs guffaws, his face twisting up in a way that makes him even uglier. Jongin doesn’t know what’s so funny, the newcomer has left his position by the door and stalks his way towards them. He holds the bat out in front of him, analyzing. He looks almost insulted at it being called a stick. 

At least that’s what Jongin thinks, the stranger’s face is shrouded in shadow from his hat and mask combo, but despite his small stature, his whole appearance screams _Danger!_ so if Jongin can sense it, then these guys must be idiots. 

Speaking of, Jongin doesn’t want to be near them as the man strides closer. 

“You know, I usually reserve this ‘stick’ for the dead. But I can always make an exception.” He grins. At least Jongin thinks he grins. His mouth is still covered by the mask but his eyes are blazing with a dangerous excitement. 

“Are you threatening us?” Bangs says, dropping the hand from Jongin’s shoulder and shoving the knife in the newcomers direction for emphasis. 

“You started it.”

“You punk, I’ll--” Jongin never learns what the man is going to do because before he can advance any further the newcomer swings the bat, barrel connecting to stomach with an _oomph_. He gears up for a second swing when the leader steps up, gun pointed to the newcomers face and halting his momentum forward. He stands, shoulders heaving and eyes still twinkling despite the lethal metal in his face. 

After a short stand off where the two men size each other up, a look of realization dawns on the leader’s face. 

“Should have known you would be him.” He says, a sneer worming its way onto his lips. “The Ilsan Slayer.”

At this the woman perks up, stepping forward and placing a warning hand on the leader. He shrugs her off. 

“I’ve heard the stories.” 

Surprisingly, rumors still travel fast, even without the aid of the internet, and Jongin has heard many of these stories himself on the days when he found other survivors who were actually willing to help him. There had been tales of a man taking down hordes of the dead with only a baseball bat since the second week of the apocalypse. Jongin had figured most of it to be bullshit, a rally cry of hope that humanity could really defend itself. There was no way in hell The Ilsan Slayer could actually exist, but looking at this man in front of him tells Jongin what he already knows from living in the celebrity world for all of his adult life. Most rumors are started from even the tiniest shred of fact. 

Funny. Jongin thought he would be taller. 

“I’m not much for gossip.” The Slayer says, adjusting the grip on his bat, “What do they say about me?”

“That you never kill. Except for the dead.” Jongin’s heard that one too. He’s like some zombie-killing Batman. 

The Slayer ponders this. “Pretty noble of me, don’t you think?”

“Pretty stupid, more like.” The leader scoffs, “Righteousness gets you nowhere but dead these days.”

“That’s true,” the Slayer agrees, nodding his head like they’re talking about the weather and not the fact that he might die in a minute, “Lucky for you the rumors are true. I don’t kill. But unlucky for you..”

“I do.” There’s a click of a gun cocking and a second man steps out of the shadows, his own gun pointed at the leader’s head. His jet black hair is tugged into a small bun on his crown, making it easier to see the wildness in his cat-like eyes. 

With the appearance of his friend, the Slayer takes advantage of the momentary distraction and swings. The leader fires a shot off in alarm, bullet going errant as the barrel of the bat knocks his arm aside. The woman shrieks, scrambling to the side as the Slayer’s friend elbows the man in the face. He goes in for a second hit when Greasy Bangs, who has recovered himself enough from the blow to his stomach, leaps up from the floor in an attempt to take the man down. 

There’s shouting and grunting from all parties as they struggle to gain the upper hand and Jongin takes this opportunity to get away, hopping off the counter and stumbling over himself to reach the nearest aisle for cover. He hopes there is some sort of back exit that he can find but another shot rings out and the sounds of the scuffle cease. Jongin hadn’t even made it out of the aisle full of kitchen utensils. He’s scared to meet whoever won the fight, worried it might be the wrong victor. 

Panicking with this thought in mind, Jongin grabs a knife off the shelf and throws himself behind the cardboard display of an animal selling yogurt that makes its home at the endcap. He tries making himself as small as possible by hugging his knees to his chest. The knife, he notices with dismay, is still covered in the thick plastic packaging. 

Frantically, he tries to tear the plastic off, only succeeding in slicing his fingers up a little. He stills when a low murmur of conversation picks up. 

“Where’d he go?”

“Dunno, booked it as soon as things went haywire.”

“Can’t have gone too far.” 

The voices stop and the footsteps get louder which can only mean that they’re looking for him. Jongin holds his breath. In the next second, the cardboard standee is ripped away, revealing Jongin in his hiding spot. He holds the knife out with two hands, hoping he looks threatening. 

“S-Stay back!” 

A beat of silence follows, and then the man before him breaks out into full bellied laughter. He’s bending over and clutching his stomach while Jongin just holds the knife out weakly--plastic cover and all. 

“You--,” he puffs out between laughs, “you’re gonna--with that?” 

“I thought it might be the other guy,” Jongin grumbles, lowering the knife. He would cross his arms too if he thought it wouldn’t make him look like a petulant child. 

“Just a little tip,” the man offers, “the knives usually work best when you take them out of the plastic.” He barely finishes his sentence before subsiding into more giggles. 

The laughter has finally drawn the attention of the Slayer, who makes his way around the corner with his bat raised. He looks to his friend to see what all the commotion is about. Jongin thinks he hears a snort when the Slayer’s companion points out his useless knife. He scoffs. Whatever.

“So are you going to let me come with you or not?” Jongin more demands than asks. He notices the Slayer’s friend staring at him, eyes narrowed. If they’re going to save him they might as well offer.

“What’s your name?” The Slayer asks, taking the mask off his face and lowering the bat. His companion snickers, only to receive a raised eyebrow in return that has him trying to stifle the laughter immediately. “Well?”

Jongin looks up at him defiantly.

“No name, no sanctuary.” The Slayer says, raising the mask once again. He cocks his head towards the door, wordlessly telling his friend to follow. 

“You really don’t know who I am?” Jongin asks before they can actually reach the door. His pride may be wounded but if this guy really is the Ilsan Slayer than he would definitely be able to provide protection--something he’s been looking for for days. Jongin thinks it would be better to not pass an opportunity like this up. 

The Slayer and his companion halt. 

“Should I?” He asks, thick eyebrows raised. His friend is smirking again, which tells Jongin that he definitely knows who he is but would much rather enjoy the show. The Slayer raises his eyebrow almost impossibly higher when he once again receives no response. 

“I’m Kim Kai.” Jongin tells him in the same tone one would use to say _duh_.

“Okay...I’m Kyungsoo.” 

He gives Jongin one last look that’s a mixture of confusion and concern before heading out the door, not bothering to check if he’s being followed. 

“Minseok.” Kyungsoo’s smiling companion supplies when Jongin turns towards him for an explanation. 

“You know who I am, right?”

Minseok laughs. 

“Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it.” And then he’s following Kyungsoo out of the store.

 

 

“Are you serious, I thought you were joking!?” Minseok whines to Kyungsoo. They’ve been walking for ten minutes now, Jongin trailing behind and feeling like a pitiful third wheel while Kyungsoo and Minseok discuss their most recent excursion.

“Why would I joke about that? You broke our deal” Kyungsoo pushes back.

“Aw c’mon he was asking for it.” Minseok says, nudging Kyungsoo in the arm. 

He doesn’t look so intimidating in the sun, with his mask off, eyes going wide everytime Minseok spouts nonsense, but Jongin has already seen him first hand as the Slayer. He’s not sure why Minseok would willingly break a deal with him, but surprisingly Kyungsoo laughs. 

“Yeah, he kind of was.” Minseok’s triumphant look lasts only a moment before Kyungsoo speaks again. “But you always let things get messy--”

“Messy is more fun.” Minseok interjects. 

“Messy gets people killed.” Kyungsoo shoots back, “So you’re on kitchen duty tonight.”

Kyungsoo cuts of Minseok’s groan with a deadly glare but it doesn’t stop the latter from continuing to fight him on it, grumbling a “You could have at least given me laundry duty.”

“And break poor Mrs. Kang’s heart?”

“You’re right, all this time I’ve had my heart set on Yuri, I was missing the true prize right in front of me.”

This conversation has definitely derailed into inside joke territory and Jongin needs to set it back on track before he gets hopelessly lost forever. Plus there _is_ something pressing that has been on his mind ever since they left the market and he spots something ahead that makes now as good a time as any to bring it up. 

Jongin clears his throat, “So..” he begins, and shrinks back when Kyungsoo turns around, eyebrows furrowed. Minseok still looks as amused as ever. “Don’t you want to--aren’t you curious about me at all?” He finishes weakly.

“You already told us your name.” Kyungsoo says. “And you don’t look dangerous either, if that little display back there is an indicator of anything.”

Jongin rolls his eyes, grabbing Kyungsoo by the wrist and pulling him to the faded billboard of his own face that’s decorating the side of a bus stop up ahead. When they reach it Jongin plants Kyungsoo right in front and then goes to stand next to it. It’s the poster from his latest drama; one where he played a self absorbed celebrity who learns how to be a good person through falling in love with the poor girl from the countryside. Unrealistic, if you ask Jongin. 

The poster version of himself has perfectly styled pink hair, his face adorned with a smirk as he playfully ignores his co-lead. She had been sickeningly sweet on set, always making sure the staff were eating and getting enough rest, Jongin thought she was a little try-hard if he’s being honest. 

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes, studying the picture, eyes darting back to Jongin every few moments. “Huh, I guess you do look like him. Your hair needs a touch up though.”

Jongin clutches at his head of (formerly) pink hair. He knows his roots are showing badly by now, having caught a glimpse in a mirror a few days ago, but it’s not like he can do much about it. He’s a little busy running from the undead.

“So I take it this is how you survived for so long,” Minseok pipes up. “Relying on your fame?”

He’s not wrong. In the first few weeks when the world was still in chaos, Jongin found that people were willing to help a familiar face. Though they tended to abandon him not long after. His skills didn’t lend themselves to survival--or teamwork. 

“I survived just like everyone else.” 

Minseok shares a significant look with Kyungsoo. “Fair enough,” he says to Jongin. 

“We should get going, they’ll be looking for us soon.” Kyungsoo cocks his head and the two continue their trek forward, presumably in the direction of their camp. 

Jongin holds his ground, an idea taking hold of him. 

“Take me to the SM Entertainment building.” He demands suddenly.

The pair in front of him stop, looking back at Jongin as though he were crazy. Kyungsoo lets out a few surprised chuckles before he breaks into real, full-blown laughter. “No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Why not?” Kyungsoo asks, amusement still dancing in his eyes,“I don’t have a death wish. And I don’t take demands from some washed up celebrity.”

‘Washed up!?” Jongin nearly screeches. He has to force himself to calm down. “I don’t know what rock you were living under before, but I’m one of the biggest names in the business.”

“Were.” Minseok points out unhelpfully. 

“Anyway,” Jongin continues, gritting his teeth, “I have to get there. I’m sure my whole company is there. And I bet they miss me.” 

It’s a little bit of a foolish hope, Jongin knows, but ever since he was left in that supply closet he had entertained the idea that the higher ups at his company would have the situation under control. They always did. They were the most powerful company in the entertainment business and the security was no joke. Jongin had got it in his mind that the SM building was the safest place in the city, and that, just maybe, someone would be waiting for him.

“There are more important things than some suicide mission to the middle of the city because you miss your famous friends.” Kyungsoo bites back, “Like finding more food or medicine, making sure camp is safe. Finding my--” he cuts himself off mid sentence, his mouth snapping shut. Minseok frowns.

“The point is, it’s too dangerous and we’re not going.” Minseok supplies. He keeps glancing at Kyungsoo in apprehension. 

A low groaning cuts through the tension of the moment and all three men turn their attention to the direction of the sound. Four--no five--of the undead have appeared from around the corner, ambling towards them with an uneven gait. 

Kyungsoo scowls at the new arrivals, their shuffling steps the only sounds echoing off the few buildings surrounding them. Next to him, Minseok cocks his gun and prepares to shoot.

Kyungsoo’s eyes dart to Jongin and back to the zombies, as though sizing him up, and then slowly he moves his hand to Minseok’s gun, lowering it. Minseok glances back at Jongin as well, eyes lighting up with understanding. 

Grabbing the knife from Jongin’s hand--still useless in its plastic packaging, Kyungsoo takes his out his own from some hidden pocket and frees it from its confines with a quick slash. He throws the shell away and tosses the knife back to Jongin. 

Jongin stares at it, his look of fear mocking him from where he catches a distorted glimpse reflected back at him in the stainless steel. 

“Time to see what you’re made of.” And without another word, Kyungsoo gives Jongin a shove towards the zombies.

Action movies were never his forte, so Jongin’s not sure how to go about this. Even if they were, he knows he would have had several stuntmen to do the heavy lifting for him. Awkwardly, he holds the knife at arm’s length, looking back at Kyungsoo and Minseok every time he takes three hesitant steps. They stand there watching him, Minseok with his hands on his hips and Kyungsoo leaning on his bat. 

In a few more steps the zombies are near enough to smell and Jongin slaps his left hand over his nose so he doesn’t have to. He slashes wildly but they’re still too far to touch. 

This suddenly feels like a test that he’s going to fail.

The creature on the right looks like it used to be a teenage girl, so Jongin targets that one first certain he can overpower it. He’s done it twice before. 

Unfortunately, those were his first and last kills. Lately, when he has a run in with the undead, he runs the other way.

Jongin manages to separate it, pushing it up against the wall. It’s struggling in his hold, which is loose as it is; it’s rotten fingernails scraping the sides of his face. In these few months, the flesh of the undead has decayed even further--so much that it feels like an entirely different beast before him than the ones that he’s killed before.

A choked sob escapes his lips before he can stop it and he swallows hard in an attempt to get his emotions in check. 

He’s not sure when Kyungsoo and Minseok entered the fray, he’s still preoccupied with trying to put his knife through the creature’s brain, but in the next moment there are brains splattering the pavement and the definitely human grunts that come along with exertion. And then a warm hand is pulling him away from the zombie that is struggling in his grip and Kyungsoo’s _Louisville Slugger_ is coming down on its head full force. 

Jongin stands motionless as Kyungsoo turns back to him. The four other corpses litter the ground behind him where Kyungsoo and Minseok had easily disposed of them. The latter has run up ahead to check around the corner and see if the coast is clear. 

“That’s twice I’ve saved your life now.” Kyungsoo’s words are sharp, not quite venomous, but there’s an undertone of it there overshadowed by disbelief. He raises his bloodstained bat and jabs Jongin in the chest with it. His already menacing stare is made moreso by his furrowed brows. “How are you alive?”

 _Good cardio and a lot of luck?_ Jongin doesn’t know what to say because he’s not quite sure of the answer himself. What he does know is that he’s not keen on the way Kyungsoo is talking to him and in a second, his frustration with the situation boils over. 

“Well it’s a hell of a lot easier to survive when random strangers aren’t throwing you in the path of zombies!” 

Kyungsoo scoffs and crosses his arms. “I wasn’t going to let you die.”

Stubbornly, Jongin brushes his pink bangs out of his face, “I don’t need saving.”

“Don’t come with us then, feel free to walk to the center of the city yourself. I’m sure your famous friends will help.”

“Kyungsoo!” Minseok interrupts from up ahead, “We should head out now if we want to make it back to camp in good time. We don’t want Chanyeol worked into a dither.” 

Returning to their sides, Minseok rolls his eyes at the hostility between Kyungsoo and Jongin. 

“You can argue when we get back, but for now there’s a few more of the undead around that bend.” He points in the direction that the previous five had come from, “We can take our chances,” a side eye to Jongin, “or we can cut through that alleyway there. It’ll add a couple of blocks but it looks clear of zombies.” 

Kyungsoo, who’s face had softened momentarily at the mention of this Chanyeol, has reclaimed his stoic facade. He raises the mask over his face once more and strides in the direction of the undead.

Minseok sighs and unsheathes his knife once again, flicking his head in a _let’s go_ motion to Jongin and making the decision to follow for him. Yet before Jongin can comply, there’s a hand on his chest stopping him from moving forward. 

“You might want to stay back this time.”

That’s probably a good idea. 

 

 

They make it back to Kyungsoo and Minseok’s camp in one piece. There are no more rendezvous with the undead beside the few that Minseok had pointed out when they chose their route and Kyungsoo had managed to bash his way through those with ease before they even got there. Minseok even seemed disappointed that he didn’t get to help.

The camp lies on the outskirts of the small suburb Jongin had been traipsing through when they found him, so it’s not much longer before they reach it. 

The main attraction is an L shaped building, an old motel that looks as though it had long been out of business even before the world was overrun by zombies. The outer brick wall is crumbling in places and the white painted trim is dirty and chipping. The whole place is surrounded by a makeshift fence, crooked and bent in some places, but all around still sturdy looking. 

Despite this, the surrounding area is teeming with more human life than Jongin has seen in weeks. 

As they approach, the crunch of gravel underfoot draws the attention of the middle aged woman manning the front gate. 

“Back so soon?” She greets from the other side of the gate, unlocking it and swinging it open.

“We couldn’t wait to share what we found, Joohyun.” Minseok smiles at her, nudging Jongin forward through the gate.

“Ah, a new recruit?” She asks. Jongin can feel himself being sized up. He may or may not puff out his chest. 

“Kyungsoo found himself a damsel in distress.” 

Jongin’s annoyance probably shows on his face, but he forces himself to keep quiet. Kyungsoo, on the other hand, smirks.

“You know me.”

He’s leaning casually on his bat again. Jongin would love to kick it out from under him but Joohyun speaks again before he can actually go through with it. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she pauses, waiting for Jongin to fill in the blank for her. He hesitates momentarily to see if he’ll get recognized but the woman just keeps smiling sweetly, deflating Jongin’s confidence.

“Kai.” He huffs out. Nothing.

“Welcome to the family, Kai.”

Once they’re safely through, Joohyun closes the gate behind them Minseok takes off almost immediately, greeting people enthusiastically as he goes. 

“Follow me,” Kyungsoo says. He sets off in the opposite direction. 

There’s a smaller building stationed next to the main part of the motel, most likely used as an office when the inn was still in operation. This is where Kyungsoo leads him, past the cracked asphalt of the former parking lot. The faded yellow lines are now covered with an odd assortment of tables and chairs situated to form what looks like a communal dining area. 

The office building is small, opening up to a cramped common room/reception hall. It's furnished with a couple of worn armchairs that take up residence near the window. There's an old, unworkable television sitting opposite. The room ends at the reception desk where a lone door sits closed.

Jongin doesn’t have time to dwell as his attention falls to the small group of children huddled on the floor. There’s a young man sitting in the chair with a mop of curly hair and large ears. The children are all listening to him with rapt attention. 

Kyungsoo pauses at the door, waiting for the right time to interrupt, but one of the children manages to see him first. 

“Mr. Slayer, Mr. Slayer!” A tiny girl calls out in a squeaky voice, “Did you really jump into a crowd of zombies and save a puppy?”

Kyungsoo looks at the man in the chair with exasperation who responds with only a shrug and a grin. 

“Is that what he told you, Yerim?” Kyungsoo asks, turning his attention to the girl. Her pigtails bounce when she nods. 

“Yes! Chanyeol told us you did all that cool stuff and he never lies to us.”

Kyungsoo chuckles. 

“Alright kiddos,” Chanyeol’s booming voice cuts in as he regains the attention of the room, “time to scram.”

A chorus of disappointed awws follows the pronouncement and Chanyeol manages to pacify them with promises of more stories after dinner. He waits until the last child leaves before asking Kyungsoo what he came for.

He stands up with a grunt of effort in order to make his way over to them. And Jongin catches a limp in his step, small but noticeable. 

“I didn’t expect you back so soon today.” Jongin winces; his loud voice echoes in the now empty room. 

“Yeah, we made a friend. I was hoping you would be able to show him around if you were feeling up to it?” 

With everyone else, Kyungsoo’s voice had been assertive and firm, but now it’s softer around the edges, less demanding. A request. 

“Oh, I’d love to! Haven’t moved around much today. I’m a little stiff.” He peers around Kyungsoo’s shoulder trying to get a good look at Jongin where he’s still loitering by the door. “So who’s the poor soul that got stuck with you?” 

"Hey, jackass, if anything _I_ was the one who suffered." Kyungsoo replies, punching him lightly on the arm. Chanyeol guffaws and swings his shoulder out of the danger zone. “Anyway, Chanyeol this is--" 

Kyungsoo's sentence is cut off with a gasp. 

" _This_ is the someone?!" Jongin has come out from behind Kyungsoo and Chanyeol is finally giving him his full attention. There’s a strange look on his face for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by another grin.

"You know him?" Kyungsoo raises his eyebrow to the other man, surprised.

Chanyeol nods his head a little too quickly. Jongin fights the childish urge to stick his tongue out at Kyungsoo. 

"Yoora was a huge fan. Practically wallpapered her room with his ugly mug."

Well that's just rude, Jongin is right here.

“Excuse me, but I was voted in the top ten sexiest idols three years in a row.” 

Jongin’s fun fact goes ignored. Whoever this Yoora is, Jongin would like to meet her. At least someone has taste. However, Kyungsoo’s eyes are scanning Chanyeol, searching for something.

“Yoora?”

"Hey you know what you should do? Retire your bat and just have him sing while you’re out on runs. It’ll do the job quicker." He makes an exploding motion with his fingers. “Ka-boom.”

Kyungsoo apparently decides to take Chanyeol’s lead and ignore whatever weird thing just happened and he laughs along. 

"Good idea, he's pretty much useless otherwise."

Chanyeol high fives Kyungsoo, dissolving into a fit of giggles. Jongin huffs in annoyance for what feels like the thousandth time today. 

"You do know I'm right here?"

Kyungsoo shares a look with Chanyeol. "All yours," he says, patting Chanyeol on the shoulder, "I'm gonna go wash up before dinner."

As he turns to take his leave, Chanyeol calls out to him, "While you're at it can you wash the blood stains off that bat, I'm tired of you dragging it in the house."

"Yes mom," comes Kyungsoo's sardonic reply, but he's smiling as he exits the room.

When he's gone, Chanyeol turns his full attention to Jongin.

"It's nice to meet you, Kai. Can I call you Kai? I'm Chanyeol by the way."

"Uh, hi." Jongin replies, but before he can get out anything else Chanyeol is launching into another sentence.

"Kai is your stage name though isn't it? So you probably want to go by your real name. It's something with a 'J' right? That's what my sister told me, but I can't remember what it was exactly. That's Yoora by the way, my sister."

Chanyeol pauses with an apology written on his face.

"Sorry, I got carried away, didn’t I?"

He glances out the window, the sky is streaked pink and orange as the sun sets. It must be getting close to dinner.

"I'll show you around really quickly. C’mon." 

 

 

Touring the camp doesn’t take long, as it’s not very big. There’s nearly fifty people occupying it, varying in age, background, and creeds. Jongin is astonished by how put together the whole place seems as everyone goes about their business. 

The door behind the reception desk actually opens to a storeroom. The shelves are piled high with canned foods and other non perishables--the result of Kyungsoo and a few others’ many scavenging trips. 

They’ve been set up here since the beginning, Chanyeol tells him, making sure to note that him and Kyungsoo are the only ones with access to the room. In the beginning it had only been the two of them, but Kyungsoo was determined to help as many people as he could, making trips into the denser populated areas and bringing people back. All while making a name for himself. 

“It’s not that we don’t trust the others, it’s just easier to keep an eye on things y’know?”

Jongin nods, following Chanyeol as he limps from the room to continue the tour elsewhere. He wonders idly how he sustained the injury in the first place. 

He’s taken past the rooms, most of which are occupied and down through the kitchen. Like everything else, it’s small. Not meant for hosting large scale meals like this every day. 

Minseok is there, bouncing around the kitchen fetching things for an old lady who’s bent over the stove. He gives them a flirty wave when they pop in. 

Whatever the old woman is cooking, it smells heavenly. Jongin’s mouth is watering just thinking about it. He hasn’t had a proper hot meal in ages. He steps in closer to get a proper whiff. 

“Mrs. Kang, did you know we have a celebrity in our midst?” Minseok sing songs as they enter the kitchen fully. 

The old woman smiles, “That’s nice, dear. Now can you bring me that large spoon from over there? The one with the holes in it.”

Minseok obliges and gets rewarded for his efforts with a pinch on the cheek and a warm smile. 

“What are you cooking up, Mrs. Kang? It’s smells divine.” Chanyeol leans up against the counter to take the pressure off his leg, his arm snaking out to sneak a slice of cucumber in the bowl to his left. 

The spoon smacks him on the wrist before the cucumber can even reach his mouth. 

“Nothing for you, now get out of my kitchen.” She says, but there’s fondness in her eyes. Chanyeol laughs and Jongin is sure that Mrs. Kang is only pretending not to notice when Chanyeol sneaks a slice of cucumber anyway, winking at Jongin as he does. 

They head out so Chanyeol can show Jongin the remainder of the grounds before dinner. Minseok calls out for Chanyeol to save him a seat as they go. He earns his own smack on the wrist for not paying attention and Chanyeol’s cackles don’t subside until they’re outside again. 

“What happens when it rains?” Jongin asks, when they cross the parking lot again. 

Chanyeol cocks his head to the side. “Not really sure, we haven’t had to deal with it yet with this many people. But we’ll figure it out. Everything is a work in progress.”

The last bit Jongin is shown is a good sized plot of land next to the rusty old groundskeeper’s shed. The soil is turned over and Chanyeol tells him that they plan to plant a garden here. They still have to figure out the logistics, assign a few people to the job, as well as acquire some seeds; because that always helps. 

They sit down for dinner a few minutes later Chanyeol choosing a spot on the end so he can stretch out his leg. They’re joined quickly by Minseok and a pretty young woman who introduces herself as Yuri. 

“Do you know Kai?” Minseok asks her.

She contemplates for a moment, finally settling on saying, “There’s something about you that’s familiar, but I don’t know why.”

Minseok snickers. “He has one of those faces.” He winks at Jongin’s glare.

Suddenly, a boy, no older than thirteen bounds up to them. His floppy black hair sticks up partially in the back like a rooster and his bangs bounce as he runs. He stops at the table, out of breath and eyes wild as he scans the table for someone specific. 

“What’s up, Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asks, amused. “Kyungsoo isn’t here yet.”

“No, I heard--,” the boy puffs out between breaths, eyes landing on Jongin, “IT’S TRUE!” He immediately moves to the other side of the table to squeeze himself next to him, not bothered in the slightest that he’s pushing Chanyeol out of the way to do so. The older man just chuckles lightly and scoots over so there’s more room for Baekhyun to share his seat. 

The boy turns to him and holds out his hand, looking entirely too serious. Jongin takes it. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kai. I’m Byun Baekhyun, your biggest fan.”

Oh. Well that’s more like it. Jongin smiles.

“Always nice to meet a fan.”

There’s a snort from somebody around the table, probably Minseok, but Jongin doesn’t have much time to dwell on it as Baekhyun launches into a discussion about his favorite songs, acting roles, outfits, and hairstyles. Jongin has said barely more than two words when Kyungsoo finally joins them, affixing himself opposite of Jongin. 

Kyungsoo looks softer now that he’s not covered in blood. The dusty grey cap is gone and his black hair is still slightly damp from the wash. His big round eyes make him look rather endearing when he’s not threatening gross old people. He’s still carrying the bat, cleaned at Chanyeol’s request, and Jongin has a feeling that Kyungsoo doesn’t go many places without it. 

“What are we talking about?”

“Little Baekhyun here is a fanboy through and through.” Chanyeol tells him, and ruffles Baekhyun’s hair; laughing when the boy grumbled at being called little. “Any good stories for today?”

As soon as he asks, the whole table perks up.

With small interjections from Kyungsoo every so often, Minseok recounts the story of their afternoon from the grocery store to the zombies they met in the street. He makes sure to include every embarrassing (for Jongin) detail. All but one. 

Though Jongin isn’t sure he wanted to remember stepping over the lifeless body again, the missing detail is glaringly obvious to those who were there. He almost speaks up when Minseok laughs at the way the man with the greasy bangs and the woman had scurried away with their tails between their legs with no mention of the third man.

“What about--” Kyungsoo is sending him a look from across the table that tells him he shouldn’t continue that sentence. He changes his tune quickly, “the knife.” he finishes weakly, regretting bringing it up almost instantly when Minseok bursts into laughter and launches into a detailed explanation of _that_ little mishap. Kyungsoo’s glare leaves him and the former joins Minseok in laughing at Jongin’s mishaps. He sulks as they tell the remainder of the story.

The rest of the table is listening with rapt attention, Baekhyun’s eyes are wide as saucers, looking more amazed with every detail and Yuri raises her eyebrows skeptically whenever Minseok careens on the side of boastful. Chanyeol seems to be paying extra attention, requesting details that others wouldn’t think to ask for. 

“It’s so he can tell the story later,” Yuri explains quietly after Chanyeol has just asked if the man from the grocery store was wearing a light blue or a navy blue shirt. She must have noticed Jongin forgetting to look sulky in his moment of confusion. “He likes to know all the details so he can be more accurate. He paints quite the picture.” 

Minseok manages to catch the tail end of the explanation, stopping his retelling to complain. “Speaking of, why don’t you give me the recognition I deserve?” He asks Chanyeol, a playful lilt to his tone. 

“What do you mean?” The other man asks innocently, “You’re always right there. You’re the sidekick.” The table erupts into laughter and Minseok smacks him in the arm. 

“It’s true, what do you even contribute?” Kyungsoo adds with a chuckle. 

Back and forth they go, their banter is light and playful; quite a contrast to the atrocities that lie beyond their small fence. It’s been awhile since Jongin felt so safe. Even in a group, he’s had to watch his own back for months. Jongin has to stubbornly admit to himself that he might be dead now if it wasn’t for Kyungsoo and Minseok finding him. 

 

 

Night has fallen as they finish their supper, the area is lit up by what looks like tiki torches from a tacky hawaiian themed party. They’re mismatched, definitely the product of scavenging a home improvement store. After they’ve had their fill of conversation, the residents begin heading to their rooms. Baekhyun, who has been dozing on Chanyeol’s shoulder for the past twenty minutes, is gently prodded awake and nudged off to bed and Kyungsoo scolds Minseok for trying to sneak away with Yuri without completing his kitchen duties. 

“This is why you aren’t in the Slayer stories, you make me look bad.”

“Hey, I save your ass out there too, it’s a two way street.”

“And the dishes are part of kitchen duty.” 

Minseok slinks away in the direction of the kitchen and Yuri bids them goodnight. Kyungsoo watches him go for a few moments before sliding beside Jongin when he stands up. He cocks his head at the direction of the motel.

“I’ll show you to your room.” Jongin nods and follows him. 

It’s darker away from the tables and a little eerie now that the laughter is gone and replaced with crickets. The air around them is still; there’s no wind running through the surrounding trees, so Jongin startles when there’s a heavy creaking coming from a section of the fence to their left. It’s accompanied by the telltale groaning of the undead. 

Kyungsoo pauses and squints into the darkness. Jongin takes a step back, hiding behind the former as best he can. 

“Don’t worry,” his voice is steady and calm, “I think it’s stuck on the fence.” He takes a few careful steps forward, bat raised. His demeanor has suddenly switched back into full Slayer mode. 

When Jongin is sure it’s safe he joins Kyungsoo--albeit a bit farther away. The zombie is impaled on a bit of the fence that sticks somewhat. It’s right arm pokes through and it swipes at the few inches of air between it and Kyungsoo. The creature’s jaw is unhinged, skin hanging off in scraps, but that doesn’t stop it from opening and closing; a futile attempt to bite the humans standing before it. 

Kyungsoo surveys it for a moment. The zombie is at an angle too awkward to kill with his bat so he takes his knife from his pocket and jabs it through the brain with a practiced ease. Jongin gags when Kyungsoo pulls the knife out with a squelch but Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to be unfazed. The zombie’s limp body sags forward onto the fence.

“I’ll clear it in the morning,” Kyungsoo mutters more to himself than Jongin. 

“Did you really do all those things?” Jongin asks suddenly. He’s thinking of earlier when Chanyeol was telling the children stories, of the tales he heard when he was beyond these walls, and the events he witnessed today with his own eyes. Of course what he did today was real but the others? No way. That was the stuff of legends. 

“Huh?” Kyungsoo asks, clearly not following Jongin’s train of thought. 

“You know, you’re ‘The Ilsan Slayer’,” he adds air quotes for emphasis, “are the legends true?”

“Chanyeol loves to talk.”

Disappointed with this answer, Jongin doesn’t question further. He’s not sure he’d get a good one anyway. It’s more humble than anything he’s gotten used to from the entertainment industry. He almost wants to hear Kyungsoo brag about his exploits. 

A tiny spark of jealousy flares up in him, coiling hotly in his gut. Jongin is so used to being the best at what he does that it’s a tough pill to swallow when someone else has beaten him.

He stews as they make their way back to the building. Kyungsoo stops in front of a door on the second floor marked 203. He opens it and leads Jongin into the quaint little room. Moonlight filters in through the open blinds and illuminates the room enough for Jongin to make out what’s in it. It’s nothing fancy, just a twin bed, a dresser, and a dusty desk in the corner. The pictures hanging on the wall depict nondescript rolling fields filled with cheery wildflowers. Jongin feels a faint sense of home at the sight, having lived a large chunk of his adult life out of a suitcase, traveling in and out of hotels while on tour or filming on location. This, however, is a bit smaller than he’s used to. 

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here.” Kyungsoo says from the doorway. “Goodnight, Kai.”

The door closes behind him and Jongin realizes belatedly that he hasn’t actually told anyone his real name all day. 

 

 

Adapting is his strong suit. Choreography, acting, even interviews, they all required him to call on a different part of himself. Each facet was just one piece of a larger package that made up Kai. The ability to turn parts of himself off and on was how he survived such a cutthroat industry. It’s what made him a star. Fitting in at Kyungsoo’s camp should be a piece of cake. He doesn’t want to be left behind again.

Jongin wakes up the next morning with the sun in his eyes, filtering through the blinds. He diligently fought a losing battle with them last night when he tried to close them. They were so old and brittle that parts of it were bent so far out of order that there was no hope to get them back in place without snapping them off completely. Eventually, he just gave up and called it a night. Despite his nap on the grocery store conveyor belt, the events of the day had thoroughly worn Jongin out and exhaustion had staked its claim on his body. 

Yawning, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and sets off to find breakfast. 

Breakfast is a quiet affair. There are a few people eating but from the looks of it, most people are up and running with their daily duties. As Jongin meanders about trying to remember which way the kitchen was, he spots the section of fence where Kyungsoo had killed the zombie the night before. It’s clear now, the other man must have gotten up early to dispose of the corpse like he said he would.

Jongin has finally gotten his bearings, making it to the kitchen just as Chanyeol is heading out. The latter hands him one of the rice cakes from his hand and spins Jongin away from the door. He takes a large bite out of his own ricecake, barely finishing chewing before he speaks. 

"How'd you sleep, superstar?"

"Uh, fine." The bed was lumpy and the blinds suck, but he supposes it's a step up from the hard ground and the constant fear of being eaten alive. 

"Great!” Chanyeol must be one of those irritating morning people judging from his cheerful tone and too-wide grin. Jongin himself is never fully awake before noon. “Then it's time to put you to work."

Work? Jongin just got here, doesn't he get a few more days to rest? 

“Um,” Jongin begins, “I was actually hoping I would be able to shower or something? Preferably get a change of clothes.” He had never gotten the chance to last night, and in all honestly, he’s not really sure when the last time he _did_. 

Chanyeol pauses, mouth full of rice cake. “Sure thing.”

 

 

Clean hair, a clean body, and clean clothes; Jongin feels fresher than he has in weeks. He sighs, his reflection in the mirror shows about an inch and a half of his black roots. 

He messes with it a bit more but there’s no way to hide it. He can’t believe people are actually seeing him like this. It’s tacky and embarrassing. 

Chanyeol’s waiting for him when he comes out, he laughs when Jongin pushes his pink bangs out of his face irritably. 

“Did you have a little fun in there?” He asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jongin glares. 

“These clothes are itchy.”

“It’s all we’ve got, now come on. I’ve decided to give you another day off and I’m going to introduce you to everyone.”

He strides away. Jongin catches up easily as Chanyeol’s speed is hindered by his bad leg. 

Chanyeol, it turns out, is kind of the leader around here. Technically, Kyungsoo brought together all of the survivors and he has an almost universal reverence as the Ilsan Slayer, but Chanyeol is the one who makes sure everything runs. He tells Jongin about their humble beginnings, about how him and Kyungsoo had been friends before the whole end of the world mess. Chanyeol was the first person that Kyungsoo saved. 

It wasn't easy. Those first few days were chaotic and scary--Jongin knows that from experience. Most people didn't know what hit them. And Kyungsoo was in the thick of it, trying to save as many people as he could. 

The people in the camp are all very friendly. In some, there’s a flicker of recognition when he waves hello, but they’re all more preoccupied in ensuring the survival of the camp’s occupants. It’s admirable how well they’ve done here in such a short amount of time. On his own, Jongin was just trying to make it to the next day, and the chaos and the fighting had split so many people up that there was a slim hope for returning to the way things were.

Chanyeol takes him to their resident doctor first; a handsome man in his thirties who introduces himself as Junmyeon and greets Jongin with a warm smile. He was a pediatrician before, but they’ll take what they can get. 

Next is Soojung and her sister Jessica. They made it to the motel on their own and are some of the very few who weren’t brought in by Kyungsoo. They seem like sweet girls until Soojung takes one look at Jongin and laughs in his face. Jongin changes his mind. 

“Don’t take it to heart,” Chanyeol is telling him as they make their way across the lawn. Since Jongin had already met Mrs. Kang, they bypassed the kitchen in order to pay Yuri a visit. She’s teaching some of the children how to do laundry with a plantation louvered door that looks like it was lifted directly from one of the motel’s many closets and turned into a washboard. “It’s weird for some people to see you here.”

Maybe Chanyeol is right, or maybe Soojung was just laughing at his hair. He doesn’t get to dwell on it when the tiny pigtailed girl named Yerim spots Chanyeol and rushes to hug him. 

“Easy there, kid.” He says, when she crashes into his legs.

Yuri looks up at the commotion and smiles. “How are you liking the motel so far, Kai?”

There’s a gasp after she asks and Jongin doesn’t get to answer because to his right Baekhyun is scrambling up from his position at the rinsing bin. “Kai!” He tries patting his hair down once, and then twice, but only succeeds in getting suds in his fringe. 

Jongin gives him a short wave. “Hey. Baekhyun, right?” 

The boy beams at the fact that his idol knows his name. He nods enthusiastically. 

“Are they putting you on laundry duty?” He asks. Baekhyun’s stance is so hopeful that he visibly deflates when Chanyeol denies it. 

“Just taking him to meet the gang.”

“Can I come?! Please, can I come?”

“Not now, you have to finish your chores.” Yuri steps in. Baekhyun grumbles and plops himself back on the ground complaining that he never gets to do anything fun.

“We were doing just fine here without interruption, now get out before I have a full scale rebellion on my hands.” Yuri tells them. She waves her hand in a shooing motion. 

Of course Chanyeol takes it good naturedly, like just about everything, so he drags Jongin away so they can go and bug someone else. 

 

 

“Where’s Kyungsoo?” Jongin asks when they break for lunch. He hasn’t seen him all day and no one else has mentioned it. 

“Out on a supply run.”

“But didn’t he just go yesterday? I mean, that’s when he found me.” He doesn’t see the need for Kyungsoo to go two days in a row. Even now, Jongin just wants to take the day off. If there’s one perk of the apocalypse it’s that, he thinks wryly--no schedules. 

“He goes out a lot. There’s a lot of apartment complexes to look through.”

“How often do you guys need to get supplies? Is there even anything left? Is Kyungsoo the only one?” Now that he’s started asking he can’t stop. The questions had been running through his mind all day. 

Chanyeol raises his eyebrow, no doubt amused by Jongin’s sudden curiosity. “It’s usually just him and Minseok. There’s no point in risking more lives and they’re capable enough for right now. 

“Does that worry you at all? He has to live up to the Slayer legacy.” Jongin can feel the jealousy surfacing again so he bites it back down. Chanyeol regards him evenly.

“Are _you_ worried?”

“I hardly know him.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by Baekhyun’s sudden appearance. He must be finished with the laundry. The boy throws himself into the empty chair beside Jongin and hesitantly pushes a bowl of strawberries towards him. 

“Kyungsoo brought these for me a few days ago since it was my birthday last week and they’re my favorite. I remembered reading that they were yours too so I thought we could share them.”

“Where did Kyungsoo find strawberries?” Baekhyun shrugs and bites his lip. “Um, thank you.” Jongin adds a second later when Chanyeol kicks him under the table. Baekhyun beams.

Once Baekhyun realizes that his gift has been accepted, the floodgates open. The kid can talk a mile a minute. 

“I also read that you like comic books! Who’s your favorite?”

“Um, Iron man.”

“Mine too! Wow, Jongin we are so alike!”

“ _That’s_ what it was,” Chanyeol bursts in from where he’s been watching the exchange from the sidelines. Jongin and Baekhyun both turn to him in alarm. “Kai’s real name,” he shrugs, “I’ve been trying to think of it all day.”

Baekhyun twists to Jongin in a panic, “Was I not supposed to say?”

It’s not like Jongin had been hiding it exactly, it’s just that he had been introducing himself to the public as Kai for so long that it was more of a habit now. Most people he met tended to know him anyway. 

“It’s fine, you can call me either.” Jongin says, taking a strawberry.

Baekhyun relaxes.

“Well I’m going to call you Jongin,” Chanyeol says, with the deciding factor, “Kai is too weird.”

 

 

Night falls and Kyungsoo returns. Jongin sits by in envy when the camp practically throws a parade for him. They all want to hear the latest Slayer story. It’s not like there’s much else to do so Jongin listens. He’s forced to hear about what a hero Kyungsoo is how he makes zombie killing an artform. Kyungsoo, himself, never denies the claims of the stories but he doesn’t brag either. 

Over the next few days Kyungsoo is gone more often than not. Jongin always gets the same answer. He’s out scavenging, hunting, scouting. Sometimes Minseok joins, and other times Kyungsoo is out alone; no one seems to take issue with this. Jongin can’t quite figure him out. He seems perfectly chatty and pleasant towards everyone but sometimes he looks at Jongin with the same glare that the thugs in the grocery had gotten and Jongin gets the feeling that Kyungsoo doesn’t like him all that much. 

On Jongin’s eighth day in the camp, Kyungsoo returns from his outing and plops a large backpack on the table in front of Jongin. It’s filled with varying types of seeds from a small plant nursery that they had come across and Jongin has been one of the people assigned to starting up their garden. 

Digging in the dirt all day is not Jongin’s ideal job, but the rest of the camp duties have been filled. Soojung helps sort the seeds into what is useful and what isn’t--wildflowers are pretty to look at but they won’t do much to feed nearly fifty hungry people once the supermarkets have been thoroughly picked over. 

Soojung decides to keep a few to plant anyway because, “There’s no reason pretty things shouldn’t be allowed to just exist anymore.”

 

 

Sunshine beats down on Jongin’s back as he finishes his second row of seeds. He wipes the sweat from his brow and sits back on his heels to survey his handy work. The rows are a little crooked, but all together not bad. 

Soojung had disappeared five minutes ago on a water break and Jongin hopes that she’s thoughtful enough to bring some back with her. 

Chanyeol is a little on edge today. Kyungsoo and Minseok still haven’t returned from their run yesterday. He had assured Jongin last night that it was nothing to worry about--they’ve done this plenty of times before--but Chanyeol is sitting in the shade helping Yuri fold laundry and Jongin can see his leg bouncing anxiously from here. 

As if summoned by Jongin’s own thoughts, the gate creaks open to reveal Kyungsoo and Minseok, but they’re not alone. A young man has his arm around their necks as they support his weight between them, the way his head lolls as they carry him indicates his unconscious state.

Chanyeol’s head snaps up when they walk in. He murmurs something to Yuri heaves himself up, making his way over to where the group has just disappeared inside the motel. Jongin is determined to follow but Soojung reappears and hands him a bottle of water. 

“He’ll be okay; it doesn’t look like he was injured that badly.” She smiles and grabs the shovel, sitting back down beside Jongin. She toils the dirt for the next row of seeds to go in. “Let’s get back to work. I’m sure we’ll meet him later.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jongin grumbles, “You just took a break.”

Soojung laughs high and clear, grabbing Jongin’s palms. “And you’ve never worked a day of hard labor in your life.”

 

 

Later comes after dinner when Kyungsoo shows up at Jongin’s door with the new survivor in tow. He’s tall and thin, his left ankle wrapped tightly with a bandage. He smiles at Jongin with a split lip.

“This is Sehun.” Kyungsoo tells him. Sehun gives a little wave. 

Jongin looks to Kyungsoo, confused. “Hey.” There’s an awkward beat where no one says anything but Kyungsoo is looking at Jongin expectantly. “Uh, it’s nice to meet you?” He says, waving goodbye so Kyungsoo can move on to the next person to introduce Sehun to, but as soon as Jongin moves to close the door Kyungsoo stops it with his foot. 

“Sehun is going to be staying here.” 

“Here?” Kyungsoo nods, “For how long?”

This seems to get on the Slayer’s nerves and he rolls his eyes, “For...ever?”

“But this is my room.”

“And now it’s Sehun’s, too.” Kyungsoo forces his way past Jongin, beckoning Sehun to follow. The latter trails in sheepishly, trying to give a placating smile to Jongin as he passes. 

Jongin crosses his arms. “There’s only one bed.”

“Then share, sleep on the floor, I don’t care.” 

“Sleep on the floor?!” Like hell. Jongin has just gotten a bed back, no way is he giving it up now. 

“Uh,” Sehun pipes up from the side, “It’s okay I can--”

“No,” Kyungsoo snaps, “Take the bed, make yourself comfortable. Kai, follow me.” 

While everyone else had taken to calling Jongin by his real name ever since Baekhyun had revealed it, Kyungsoo still preferred to address him by his stage name. Jongin wasn’t sure if it was because he was never around long enough to learn it or if he just didn’t care. Still, he follows Kyungsoo out of the room. 

“Do you have an issue?” Kyungsoo rounds on him as soon as the door shuts behind them. 

“Why can’t he stay somewhere else? This is my room.” Jongin knows he sounds like a petulant child but it isn’t fair that he now has to share his room with some random stranger. As a solo act, Jongin had never had to share a room before. He had heard the nightmares of living in a dorm and he was lucky he never had to experience that and he didn’t want to start now. 

“Because there _is_ nowhere else. All of the other rooms are full.” 

“Stick him with someone else then.” 

“You know,” Kyungsoo begins, narrowing his eyes at Jongin, “you’re lucky that we even let you stay here. Most people would be grateful.”

“Who is we? You’re not even here enough to be considered in charge.” This seems to get to Kyungsoo, the latter’s grip on his bat tightens, his knuckles turning white. He lifts it and presses it into Jongin’s chest. 

“The reason I go out there is my business. We’re letting you stay here out of the kindness of our hearts, so you can continue your suicidal mission to SM or wherever and Sehun can have the room to himself or you can shut up and share.” Kyungsoo finishes, the bat is pressing hard into Jongin’s sternum. 

Jongin is taken aback at the mention of SM, having abandoned the plan immediately once he was taken in here. It was a stupid plan anyway and he had only mentioned it with the barest flicker of hope that anyone who cared about him would still be there. 

Jongin knocks away the bat and crosses his arms once again. He looks away in defeat; he never knows what to say to Kyungsoo. 

“I-” he starts, but then bites back his retort, it’s probably for the best, “I’m going to bed.” 

Sehun is lying in the bed when he returns, eyes closed. Jongin isn’t sure if he’s only pretending to sleep but either way it saves Jongin the trouble of interacting with him. 

He searches around in the dresser until he finds the drawer with the extra blankets, grabbing a few to lay out on the floor. They’re the weird scratchy kind with the silk trim that all houses and hotels seem to have. He curls up with them on the floor and does his best to fall asleep. 

 

 

Jongin wakes up the next morning to Sehun’s face peering over the side of the bed. Sehun laughs when Jongin startles, pulling up the blanket to cover his chest even though he’s fully clothed.

“Were you watching me sleep?” Jongin asks the new kid through a yawn, stretching to get the aches of sleeping on the floor out of his back. Sehun looks nearly the same age as Jongin so maybe he’s not quite a kid. 

Sehun mulls his answer over, probably deciding what sounds the least creepy. “No, well, kinda. I’ve been up for ages. The blinds suck and I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Tell me about it,” Jongin mumbles, even though he had somewhat gotten used to it.

“Did you know you snore?” Sehun asks, abruptly changing the subject. 

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Well it’s my room, I’m allowed to snore in it if I want to,” he growls irritably, immediately feeling bad when Sehun’s face falls. 

He fiddles with his thumbs before looking up at Jongin. “Look man, I can talk to Kyungsoo about changing rooms if I have to.”

“No, I--” Jongin flops back down on his makeshift bed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose between his two fingers. Another argument with Kyungsoo is not what he needs, “Just don’t worry about it.”

Sehun regards him warily for a few more seconds. “Okay,” he says with narrowed eyes and then quickly changes his tune altogether, “I’m starving, can you show me where to get some food around here?” 

 

 

On the way to breakfast, Sehun tells Jongin about Kyungsoo’s harrowing rescue attempt blah blah blah. Jongin mostly tunes him out, sick to death by now of how many times he has to hear about how awesome Kyungsoo is. 

Kyungsoo and Chanyeol are having an intense conversation when they arrive, and Kyungsoo immediately departs once Jongin and Sehun sit down to join them. Chanyeol watches him go, resigned, and then turns his attention to the newcomers and smiles warmly.

Jongin keeps his eyes on Kyungsoo as he disappears inside the office only to head out a moment later with a backpack and a mask covering his face. The bat, as always, is in his right hand. He heads for the gate and Joohyun goes through the process of opening it for him and then making sure it's shut securely behind him.

Pushing away from the table, Jongin stands abruptly, completely missing the fact that Chanyeol's smile is a little different than the ones he gives everyone else and Sehun's cheeks have a dusting of pink on them. He makes an excuse about not being hungry and heads for the back of the motel.

The fence here is obscured from the rest of the camp and made out of chainlink so without a second thought he climbs it. His pant leg snags a bit on the way down, causing him to have to yank it free so he stumbles a bit and lands hard. A stick snaps underneath his boot from the fall and he quickly gets up and checks his surroundings. He relaxes when it's zombie free, so he hastily sets off in the direction of the gate.

He catches up to Kyungsoo fairly quickly but makes sure to keep his distance so he won't be caught. He’s going to figure out what the Slayer is doing when he's out on supply runs. There's no way that that's all he's up to.

It's a fifteen minute walk before they reach the suburb and another two before they run into any of the undead. Or rather, Kyungsoo runs into the undead and Jongin hides behind a mailbox while he angrily smashes their skulls in.

Jongin watches in fascination at the way his muscles work under the sleeves of his black t-shirt. Even through a haze of fury his swing is a thing of beauty. If Jongin knew anything about baseball he would say it was a power hitter's swing. He thinks that's the term. He was never really a sports guy. Kyungsoo tees off on the zombie's heads like it's batting practice, grunting with the effort and painting the sidewalk red.

There's a herd of them now, gathering slow and steady, drawn to the carcass of an unfortunate deer that lies in the middle of the road. It makes for easy pickings and Kyungsoo continues to barrel through them all. In as many of the Slayer stories that Jongin has heard, he has never known Kyungsoo to be so reckless. He's sure that if Chanyeol knew this was what Kyungsoo was leaving for he would never allow it.

Jongin has been so caught up in the show that he's forgotten to pay attention to his surroundings. After a particularly impressive swing, Jongin hears a gasp coming from the alleyway to his left. He turns his head sharply at the noise, praying that there isn't another gang ready to attack him but all he sees is a mess of fluffy hair that sticks out in the back as a small head peeks around the corner.

Baekhyun.

This is not good.

"Hey!" Jongin whisper-yells to the boy. Baekhyun's head immediately disappears around the corner to hide again. "I can see you."

Still nothing.

Jongin checks if the coast is clear, and most importantly if Kyungsoo is watching before he ducks into the alleyway himself.

"What are you doing here?" He whispers to the boy. "It's dangerous out here."

Baekhyun, who has a mild look of panic in his eyes, holds firm. "I followed you."

"Why would you do that?"

"You followed Kyungsoo."

"That's different. How did you even get out here."

The boy crosses his arms, a pout forming on his lips. "I climbed the fence, same as you. Please let me stay, I won't get in the way, I promise."

Jongin sighs. How is he meant to find out what Kyungsoo has been up to if he has to babysit a kid? He debates briefly the merits of being a responsible citizen and bringing Baekhyun back to camp, but he's come too far to give up now.

He takes a quick peek around the corner to find that Kyungsoo has started to move on and makes his decision.

"Fine," he says, turning back to Baekhyun, "but you have to be very careful. And quiet."

Baekhyun nods his head vigorously, obviously pleased that Jongin has decided to let him stay. Remaining along the walls of the buildings so as not to attract any of the undead to them, they follow Kyungsoo at a respectable distance.

In all honesty, Jongin doesn't know what Kyungsoo is doing. At first glance it seemed that he had been trying to let off steam but now he's just wandering aimlessly. At least that's what it looks like--they've passed at least two buildings and several houses that have looked promising and Kyungsoo hadn't bothered to enter.

"What's he doing?" Baekhyun gives a voice to the thought that had been running through Jongin's head all day. The houses all have a slightly different look to them here which tells Jongin that they've walked straight through to another neighborhood.

"I don't know." Jongin answers.

His stomach growls, and Jongin realizes that he hasn't eaten anything all day. Overhead, the sky is gradually getting darker--it looks like rain.

Baekhyun seems to be in the same predicament, holding his stomach and looking guiltily up at Jongin when it gives a particularly loud grumble. It doesn't look as though Kyungsoo is ready to head back anytime soon and the longer Jongin is out here the more uneasy he grows. Maybe they should head home.

A few drops start falling in a steady plink, plink, plink. Up ahead, Kyungsoo ducks into a small building.

Jongin grabs Baekhyun's hand and drags him to the building as well.

From the outside the building is nondescript, a little office that still has its sign flipped to 'open'. There’s a window a little higher than eye level and Jongin peers into it, noticing the remnants of character in tiny space, left behind in a hurry by its former occupant. There are posters on the wall of different tropical locations, an ad for carnival cruises stamped in the corners. On the windowsill in front of Jongin there’s a few dusty model airplanes. It must have been some sort of travel agency. The desk is filled with pictures of family and friends and even the drawing of a small child is pinned to the wall above the phone. The small waiting area is nearly hidden by a plethora of plants, clearly all fake from the way they still look alive and healthy, cover the little couch that Kyungsoo has thrown himself onto. It’s shocking how normal it looks.

"Can we go in?" Baekhyun asks a little too loudly.

Jongin shushes him.

"But I'm hungry and it's starting to rain." There are a few zombies crawling around as well down the street, but for now they aren't bothering them and Jongin would like to keep it that way.

From inside the building there's a short sniffle and...is Kyungsoo crying? Jongin moves to get a better look, stepping up on the short ledge running around the outside of the building to get access to the higher window but the bottom of Jongin's shoe is wet and he misses his footing.

He can't stop the small crash that follows as his butt hits the wet pavement and his hands grab for purchase on the ledge. Baekhyun runs to him, eyes wide.

All the sounds from the office cease immediately and Jongin tries his best to placate Baekhyun and keep him quiet at the same time. In the middle of their frenzied whispers, the door slams open and Kyungsoo is standing over them, poised to swing.

Intensity morphs from shock and confusion before rage ultimately settles on Kyungsoo's features. His eyes are rimmed red but Jongin doesn't get a chance to wonder before Kyungsoo takes a deep breath to speak.

"May I ask why you followed me?" The fury lacing his words is barely concealed, frustration crinkling his eyes.

Baekhyun decides to speak up first, to defend him. "I followed Jongin, don't be mad," he pleads, but it's definitely too late for that.

"You shouldn't have followed but _you_ ," he spits, rounding on Jongin, "what the hell do you think you're doing."

"Trying to figure out why the hell you're so secretive about where you go all the time." Jongin might as well be honest, there's no talking his way out of this one.

"I told you that's none of your business." Pivoting on one heel, Kyungsoo grabs one of Baekhyun's hands and takes off in the direction of camp. "We're going home."

Baekhyun let's himself be dragged away, shamefaced, and Jongin forces himself to follow.

The rain still falls in a light drizzle, drenching their small party as they walk in silence.

"Did you even bring a weapon?" Kyungsoo asks when they're in the middle of the town. It's not too far now but the rain has started to fall in earnest.

Jongin doesn't reply and Kyungsoo gets his answer. 

The rain doesn’t let up as they continue their trek. Shivering, Jongin suggests that they find a house to stay in for the night. The downpour hasn’t seemed to have affected the undead and there’s just as many of them crawling about as there usually is. 

“Kyungsoo--”

“What?” The other snaps.

There’s a large herd of the undead up ahead; it’s the scene of Kyungsoo’s earlier killing spree. They’re still milling about even though by now the carcass of the deer is nearly picked clean. The downpour doesn’t seem to be bothering them in the slightest. 

“Don’t you think we should stop?” Jongin asks Kyungsoo. Baekhyun still has his hand gripped tight in the Slayer’s. 

“We can go around.” Kyungsoo keeps his eyes purposefully on the herd to avoid looking at Jongin. “I don’t want Baekhyun out here any longer than necessary.”

“I can fight them!” Baekhyun pipes up, but his bravery is thwarted by a crack of thunder so loud the ground vibrates. A red sedan starts blaring directly to their left and Kyungsoo freezes. Baekhyun yelps and clings even harder to Kyungsoo’s side. 

Slowly, the head of every zombie in front of them turns their heads in the direction of the trio. 

“Fuck.” Kyungsoo whispers, nearly inaudible over the rain.

Finally, Kyungsoo unfreezes himself and springs into action, whacking off the top of the nearest mailbox. The rain-softened ground makes it easier for Kyungsoo to yank the metal post out. 

“What are you doing?” Jongin yells, voice pitched high and shaking. The car alarm is still blaring and the zombies have begun an ambling trek towards them. 

“You don’t have a weapon.” Kyungsoo yells over the din, tossing the post to Jongin. He nearly drops it from the moisture. “Baekhyun, stay back.”

There’s too many, Kyungsoo can’t possibly be thinking of fighting his way through them. Jongin voices this concern to Kyungsoo who points at a house two doors down from them and much nearer to the undead than Jongin would like. “We just have to get in there.” Kyungsoo tells them, “Minseok and I keep a few weapons and provisions there just in case.”

It would be incredibly convenient if not for the fact that it requires them to venture headlong into the thickest part of the herd. But still, they run, making it to the porch with little difficulty. Though not without drawing the attention of the zombies nearby. Kyungsoo fumbles with the lock as the closest ones make their way onto the porch with them. 

Jongin swings and connects with the head of the nearest zombie, the corpse falls away only to be replaced with another one immediately. 

Kyungsoo has resorted to banging his shoulder into the door in an attempt to break it open. 

There’s too many of them on the small wooden porch, Jongin realizes with dismay. It’s probably built for three people maximum and the dead keep appearing as if they’re multiplying. He swings wildly, doing his best to keep them at bay, aiming for anything and everything, the torrent clouding his vision. Baekhyun stays sandwiched between them.

"THE HEAD, AIM FOR THE HEAD!" Jongin hears Kyungsoo shouting over the roar of the rain. 

If he knew where the heads were he would aim for them, but the downpour is so thick that Jongin can only continue smashing away, hoping he's hitting at least some of them.

A crack rips through the air as Kyungsoo gives one last pound of his shoulder. The support beams have finally given under the weight. Jongin loses his footing as the porch collapses beneath them. Utter chaos ensues and Jongin can just make out Kyungsoo tumbling head first through the doorway There’s a strangled yell from somewhere to his right and then a scream of pain two seconds later when the rest of the beams give away. 

Jongin goes tumbling off the edge, the zombie he was trying to fight off following suit, and landing right on top of him. There’s a plank of wood digging into his back and the rain is pelting directly onto his face. Jongin holds the zombie at bay with the post held sideways against its neck but the teeth are still snapping wildly. 

“KAI!” 

Kyungsoo’s voice is nearer now and laden with fear. Jongin manages to throw the zombie off of him and scramble up. It lands next to him with a thud; Kyungsoo’s _Louisville Slugger_ comes smashing down on its skull, saving him.

“Baekhyun’s hurt and there’s too many of them.” Kyungsoo says, extending his hand to help Jongin up. “We have to get out of here.” 

Jongin can only nod, choking back a fearful sob. 

Kyungsoo disposes of another zombie who’s gotten too close. There’s a gash on his chin and another across his arm, but other than that he looks unharmed. “Are you hurt?” He asks Jongin. 

Jongin shakes his head. 

“Good, you’ll have to carry him, I’ll try to fend them off.”

Baekhyun is hunched against the wall of the house, leg bent at an odd angle. There’s a large chunk of the porch in front of him that’s managed to remain intact and it’s the only thing currently keeping him from being eaten alive. As it is, their rotten fingertips still manage to graze his cheeks and he closes his eyes, turning away as best he can. The terror on the boy’s face matches the terror Jongin is presently feeling.

“We have to run.” Kyungsoo shouts over the rain, knocking aside the few zombies just far enough so they can evacuate Baekhyun.

Jongin heaves Baekhyun onto his back, holding on as tight as he can to secure him. The boy lets out a cry of pain and buries his head in Jongin’s neck. As soon as he’s secure, Jongin takes off, the now muddy lawns squelching with every step. Kyungsoo is right behind him, swinging wildly to keep the undead at bay long enough for them to get away. 

Jongin runs until his lungs feel like they’re on the verge of collapse, Baekhyun’s whimpers of pain are the only thing that’s urging him forward. It feels like ages before the crooked fences of the motel come into view. 

Kyungsoo sprints ahead, shouting for the gate to open. When no one obliges he’s forced to do it himself. The rain must be keeping all of the survivors at the camp indoors. 

Yanking it open, Kyungsoo hurries them inside, “Bring him to Junmyeon!”

Jongin gathers enough energy to bring him to the common room, bursting in and shouting for the doctor. He probably looks deranged, drenched to the bone and holding a crying kid who’s leg is twisted in the wrong direction. There’s a flurry of movement and a few shouts of surprise, but Jongin doesn’t let Baekhyun go until Junmyeon is rushing in, wet from the rain and out of breath from running. 

Jongin’s not even aware that he’s been chanting, “I’m sorry,” over and over, until Soojung places a calming hand on his shoulder squeezing lightly. 

Baekhyun is safe, _he’s_ safe. The adrenaline drains from his system and Jongin collapses in a soaking heap and begins to sob. 

 

 

Sometime later, Jongin makes it back to his room with the help of Sehun, who was quick to reassure him. The kid’s leg was broken but he would be okay. Jongin had only known Sehun for a day and already he was being nicer than Jongin deserved. 

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says later when Sehun returns from dinner and tosses Jongin a bread roll. It had only been mid-afternoon when Jongin, Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun had returned but Jongin had holed himself up in his room for the rest of the day. 

“For what?” Sehun asks, “You already apologized this morning. At least, I think that’s what you were doing.”

Had that only been this morning? It already feels like ages ago. Jongin chuckles humorlessly, Sehun seems to have him figured out. “I’m not sure I really meant it.” The rain is still beating down outside, it fills the silence between them with a steady rhythm. 

Sehun watches Jongin carefully for a moment before sitting down on the bed next to him. “I get it dude, we’ve all been through some things out there. Hell, I don’t know if I would be alive if Kyungsoo hadn’t found me when he did, but I’m not sure you’re apologizing to the right person.”

Jongin sighs, taking a forceful bite out of the bread roll. He hasn’t actually eaten anything since last night and his stomach thanks him. Jongin doesn’t want to admit it but Sehun is right. 

 

 

The “hospital wing” of the motel is really just the room adjacent to Junmyeon’s and packed to the brim with miscellaneous medical supplies that the survivors had managed to scavenge. After meeting Junmyeon, Jongin had expected it to be neat and orderly, but it seems that the doctor’s workspace had turned into more of an organized mess that no one else can figure out. 

Currently, the doctor is directing Kyungsoo through the haphazard piles of medicine in search of the painkillers. Baekhyun’s small figure lies in the middle of the double bed, his leg bandaged to the knee and his foot resting on a stack of three fluffy pillows. A tiny frown rests on his pale features; Jongin’s heart clenches at the sight. 

Kyungsoo himself has a large pad of gauze covering the wound on his shoulder, the gash on his chin left uncovered. He still hasn’t managed to find the pills, calling out to Junmyeon in exasperation every so often so, eventually, the doctor gets up to get them himself. 

Jongin watches all of this as he hovers awkwardly by the door, wondering how best to make an entrance, before ultimately deciding on three quiet knocks. 

“Jongin!” Junmyeon greets him, smiling kindly, “How are you feeling?”

Baekhyun catches his eye from the bed, the frown on his face disappearing as he waves at Jongin eagerly. Jongin smiles back halfheartedly, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Okay,” he mumbles, feeling Kyungsoo’s eyes snap to him already in a glare. Junmyeon hands the bottle of pills to Kyungsoo and instructs him to give Baekhyun two. 

“You ran off so quickly last night, I didn’t get to check on you.”

“I’m fine, really.” Jongin says, brushing aside the doctor’s worry, “Not even a scratch.”

Kyungsoo scoffs from where he’s sitting at Baekhyun’s side. Junmyeon hears and gives Jongin a pointed look and excuses himself with the pretext of getting some food for Baekhyun. “I’ll be back to check on them later,” he tells them before he’s out the door and leaving them alone in an awkward silence. 

Approaching the bed, Jongin clears his throat. “Hey.”

Kyungsoo stands abruptly, his chair scraping the floor loudly and making Jongin wince. “Let’s talk outside, Kai.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, “I thought he came to visit me? Right, Jongin?”

Jongin looks at Kyungsoo guiltily, “I did.”

“Fine.” Kyungsoo says, sitting back down and crossing his arms. “After, then.”

There’s another awkward silence before Baekhyun is breaking it and surprising both of them. 

“Wasn’t that so awesome yesterday?!” 

“What?” Jongin and Kyungsoo practically yell at the same time. 

“Baekhyun, that was incredibly dangerous--you got your leg broken for Christ’s sake.”

“Yeah, but I’m okay now.” the boy grumbles, sinking down into his pillows under Kyungsoo’s fierce gaze, “Plus I got my very own Slayer story out of it! And Kai was there too! If my friends knew they would be soooo jealous.”

“Your friends don’t even know who I am.” Kyungsoo points out, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. 

“I bet they do. You’re totally famous now.” Jongin reluctantly nods in agreement when Baekhyun looks to him for back-up. Kyungsoo doesn’t push the issue any further. “They definitely know Kai though. He’s all I used to ever talk about. You’re the reason I wanted to be an idol.” Baekhyun says to Jongin, eyes shining. 

Baekhyun wanted to be an idol? Jongin didn’t know that. It hits Jongin right in the gut. All Baekhyun ever did was look up to him and now it’s Jongin’s fault that he’s hurt. 

“Look kid, I’m sorry. I haven’t been the best role model. Yesterday was completely my fault.” 

“Are you kidding?” Baekhyun is incredulous, gesticulating wildly, “You were a top star by the age of sixteen! You’ve won like...hundreds of awards, and you never had any scandals!”  
[That he knows of.]

“None of that matters now.”

Kyungsoo looks up in surprise at Jongin’s words, so different from what they’ve been in the time that he’s stayed with them. Baekhyun nods. 

“The zombies ruined all of my plans,” he says solemnly, “I was going to beat you.”

Jongin laughs and ruffles Baekhyun’s hair. The kid sure has taken all of this in stride. “You sure about that?” 

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose at the action, but he continues on undeterred. “Of course. I was going to practice twelve hours a day, singing, dancing, acting--you name it.” He bites his lip, “But can you teach me the dance to Transformer? It’s really hard.”

Jongin laughs, “Let’s get your leg healed up first, okay?”

 

 

“That was different.” Kyungsoo says when they’ve left the room, looking thoughtful. Junmyeon had returned with food for Baekhyun and had given the pair of them another significant look. They’re walking along the outside of the motel, the rain from last night had let up but the ground is still damp with an occasional puddle. Jongin jumps slightly to dodge one. 

“I’d like you to reconsider kicking me out.” He says, aiming for casual but probably coming off more desperate than anything. Kyungsoo turns to him, confusion written on his features. “It’s just...I’m new to the whole--y’know, helping thing.”

“I’m not going to kick you out.”

“You’re not?” Kyungsoo shakes his head. 

“I’m still really pissed at you.” That Jongin had been expecting, “But I’ve decided that I’m going to train you.”

“Train me? Why?”

“Because frankly, you’re a liability. And I don’t want to wait around until something worse than this happens.”

The air between them is still, the humidity choking. Jongin is uncomfortably aware of the sweat pooling at the base of his spine and Kyungsoo’s intimidating gaze, waiting for his answer. Jongin thinks back to all the times he had nearly gotten himself and others killed; he’s trained half his life in order to survive the stage, only now the stakes have raised and Jongin’s out of practice. 

He nods. 

 

 

The speed at which information travels even without the internet still manages to surprise Jongin. It seems like the entire camp had gotten word about Kyungsoo training him within two minutes of Jongin himself finding out. They start the lessons in the evening a few days later, after Kyungsoo has returned from a run and Jongin has finished his garden duties. Unfortunately, this means that everyone else is also free and the promise of a free show draws a crowd. 

Somehow this is Chanyeol’s fault. 

Jongin reasons this out to himself when the man shows up with Yuri, herding the camp’s small collection of children between them like they’re on a class field trip. But even besides them, a good number of the survivors had turned out; Soojung gives Jongin an encouraging wave when he catches her eye, Junmyeon is helping Baekhyun hobble his way to the clearing to watch his two favorite people (the color had returned to his face but it still troubled Jongin to see the damage he had caused). Even Minseok had joined the festivities--offering to lend Kyungsoo a hand if he needed it. Jongin suspected that he hadn’t really meant it when he immediately lay down in the grass, head resting on Yuri’s lap, eyes closing as soon as Kyungsoo declined. 

“Um, this won’t be that exciting,” Kyungsoo tells them, turning his attention from Minseok to the remaining members of the crowd. In his arm is a duffle bag filled with various knives and other sharp objects. His own _Louisville Slugger_ rests in its usual spot against the Slayer’s shoulder. 

Kyungsoo gulps, looking round to Jongin who shrugs. An audience was nothing new for him, so he wasn’t going to let it distract him. 

Kyungsoo starts digging in his bag, pulling out knives and laying them neatly out in front of Jongin. “I really just wanted you to choose a weapon that you’re comfortable with and then go from there. Maybe test a few out, see how they feel.” The crowd starts grumbling a bit at the lack of excitement but Kyungsoo powers right through it. “And if you don’t want a knife we can find something else.” He pulls out an axe and a sledgehammer from the bag, handing the axe to Jongin. It’s way heavier than he expected so he shakes his head and hands it back to Kyungsoo. “I don’t like them myself, but uh, guns...if you want to...I can show you.”

“Booooo!” Someone heckles from the crowd. Sounds like Sehun. He’s found his way over next to Chanyeol; the two seem to be attached at the hip these days. “Get to the good stuff.”

Kyungsoo stops, his eyes darting in every direction. Jongin is unused to seeing nervousness painted on his features. He laughs quietly, touching the other’s arm. 

“Just ignore them.”

He nods and swallows hard, but the hand on his arm seems to relax him, it’s only his friends after all, and soon he starts giving it right back to them when their audience gets a little too rowdy. He really didn’t plan anything too exciting for the first day, ending the lesson when Jongin had chosen a ten inch bowie knife as his preferred weapon and had gotten comfortable enough with the grip for a few experimental jabs. 

By the third training session, the shine had worn off and the crowd no longer gathered, which left Kyungsoo and Jongin alone to train. Luckily, Kyungsoo’s boring regiment had finally started picking up. Aching muscles were common now, Jongin had been out of practice for far too long. 

The effort and strain brought about memories of Jongin’s predebut days. The days before he was Kai and he was just a kid with a dream who spent too many long hours in the dance studio running through choreo until he could dance it in his sleep and the sweat felt like a second skin. The Kai part of him that he had so desperately tried to cling to before was finally being revived in the long hours he spent working towards a new goal. 

But while dancing came natural to him, combat was something else entirely. It agitated Jongin to no end when he couldn’t strike a blow in the same way Kyungsoo was trying to teach him. Which seemed to annoy Kyungsoo, too, who always thought he should be better.

“You’re nimble and you’re agile, fucking use it,” Kyungsoo scolds after the tenth time Jongin has awkwardly attempted the backhanded stabbing motion Kyungsoo has him working on today. They were using an old plank of wood as a dummy; the array of off center nicks illustrate just how many times Jongin had missed his mark. 

Kyungsoo’s hair is nearly wild with the amount of times he had run his fingers through it in frustration.

“I’m _trying_ ,” Jongin spits back, flinging his knife at the ground. Kyungsoo yanks the hilt up from where it had stuck in the dirt and shoves it back into Jongin’s grip.

“These are people’s lives, Kai.” The frustration is finally bubbling over and Kyungsoo’s voice comes out as a growl. “Not some talent show.”

“What makes you think I don’t know that?” Jongin shouts back, his own temper flaring up. 

Kyungsoo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just...just try it again.”

It goes on like this until Kyungsoo deems his attempts passable. Jongin tries channeling the anger into productivity, but the air between them is still tense. Each of them are too stubborn to give in to the other. 

On nights like these, dinner is never fun. Chanyeol attempts to make a joke to loosen the atmosphere but at most, Kyungsoo gives him a tight-lipped smile and the rest of the meal continues in awkward silence.

Kyungsoo is gone the next morning. 

 

 

“Which one?” Chanyeol asks, tossing Jongin a few small boxes, waking him up with his booming voice. He holds two of his own up on either side of his face and is grinning like an idiot--there’s no way one person can have all those teeth. Jongin fumbles, a little bleary-eyed and confused; totally unprepared for the assault.

“I think you should go with orange,” Sehun says, filing in behind Chanyeol and forcing his way onto the couch where Jongin had been peacefully napping a moment ago. “You can match the carrots in your garden.”

To check the progress, Jongin had pulled his first vegetable out of the ground around two days ago. It was small--no larger than his thumb with just a hint of orange peeking through a crust of dirt--but it was something. Jongin was proud. Soojung laughed at him when he did a happy dance right there in the garden. Jongin had bragged to Sehun that night before bed. 

The small boxes turn out to be cheap hair dye, Jongin discovers after he shoves Sehun for messing up his comfortable position. There’s about six different colors, including the ones that Chanyeol is holding. The box of bubblegum pink has fallen on the floor, “In case you wanted to touch up those roots,” Chanyeol says when Jongin leans over to pick it up. “Or,” he shakes a box, “you can do something a little different.”

The box he’s rattling in his hand says _Forest Green_ , but it’s a shade too close to puke if you ask Jongin. The rest of the colors are equally as ugly, but Jongin manages to find a safe shade of medium brown hidden among the rainbow and chooses that one.

“Where’d you even get these?”

“I found them.” Sehun declares proudly. He had been allowed to join Kyungsoo’s exclusive scouting team almost immediately once he had arrived--just as soon as his ankle had healed. Not that Jongin was bitter or anything. “Minseok told me I should bring them back for you, even though Kyungsoo said we should focus on more important things.”

“Kyungsoo needs to have some fun,” Chanyeol says, and then to Jongin, “Are you sure?”

He nods. Brown is much easier to maintain--not that he did much for his hair by himself before. He always had stylists for those things. He’s about to thank Chanyeol when he sees the pair of scissors in his hand. Chanyeol snips them playfully. 

“What are those for,” Jongin asks warily. Chanyeol’s big, dumb grin gets even bigger. 

“I’m giving you a haircut!”

Chanyeol grabs the chair that’s against the wall and sets it in the middle of the room, motioning for Jongin to come sit in front of him. When he hesitates, Sehun kicks him fully off the couch, cackling despite Jongin retaliating by punching him in the arm. 

“You won’t go bald,” Chanyeol promises when Jongin finally gets up to make his way over. He takes a moment to stretch his aching muscles. They’re stiff with disuse since Kyungsoo had been on a run and training was halted for a few days. “I’m sure this stuff is still good.”

“Reassuring.”

“Isn’t it?” Chanyeol pushes down on Jongin’s shoulders, “Sit, I’m going to dye it first.”

 

 

It turns out to not be as bad as Jongin had feared. Chanyeol is a little messy when he works. He gets some of the dye on Jongin’s ears. But the smell of ammonia is just as nauseating as Jongin remembers, and it’s strangely comforting in its familiarity. 

Sehun leaves after awhile, the smell getting to him, and Chanyeol finally debuts Jongin’s new hair color--holding a worn pink mirror for Jongin to survey himself in. He holds the bangs out of his face, his hair still too long and shaggy, but the brown looks nice. It’s definitely less flashy. Sadly, the pink had been on it’s last legs anyway. 

Once Jongin has had his fill, Chanyeol gets to cutting. 

“Where’d you learn to do this?” Jongin asks. Chanyeol’s fingers move across his scalp with a practiced ease, it’s what gives Jongin the impression that he’s done this before.

“My sister Yoora.” The last time she was brought up, Chanyeol had reacted weirdly. Even Kyungsoo had seemed taken aback. The burning curiosity gets the better of him. 

“Do you miss her?” Chanyeol’s fingers still momentarily, picking up as he gives a resigned sigh. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Chanyeol tells Jongin to turn around so he can work on his bangs. Now that they’re face to face, Jongin can see the hesitancy written all over his features, he gives what he hopes is a small smile of encouragement. 

“It’s so weird--you being here. Me talking about her to you.”

“Why?”

“Because she _loved_ you.” Chanyeol answers. “And I mean to the point where it was...a little much.”

Jongin scoffs, but there’s no real malice in it. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Dude, your face was plastered all over her wall. Everywhere. She could have at least chosen a more handsome idol.”

Jongin makes a move to hit Chanyeol, but the offending party just holds up the scissors and makes a tutting noise. Jongin drops his hand, he’s not willing to take the risk and lose his hair. 

“You just..you make me think of her.” His voice is softer now, nostalgic, “And that was hard at first. She was my best friend growing up.” He clears his throat, ruffling Jongin’s hair and tilting his head back to get a good look at it. He pulls Jongin’s head back for a few more alterations. 

Jongin smiles. His own sister was much older than him. He wonders what happened to her when the world collapsed and if he should feel sad. But she was practically a stranger to him along with the rest of his family. “Was it….” he trails off but Chanyeol still catches his meaning. 

“No actually,” Chanyeol laughs humorlessly, “just a regular old car. She was gone and I got this.” He pats his leg where it sits stretched out next to Jongin’s side. “I listened to your music when I missed her the most.”

It’s sappy, but the genuineness of the statement makes Jongin’s heart warm. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Chanyeol scolds, “This is why I haven’t told anyone that before. Not Kyungsoo. Not even Sehun.”

Sehun? Why would Sehun rank so high? Jongin decides to ask and his question is met with raised eyebrows. 

“You didn’t know...? You know what, never mind. You have your own problems to sort through.” Chanyeol says, confusing Jongin even further. “Speaking of, go easy on Kyungsoo.”

“What do you mean?”

Chanyeol only raises his eyebrows again, setting the scissors down with a sigh when he finishes his final adjustments. 

“He’s a good guy you know.”

“So I’ve heard.” Jongin grumbles.

“You know when the infection first started spreading he came to me first? He protected me, even if I slowed him down.” Jongin nods, remembering Chanyeol mentioning something about it when he had first arrived. “Well, with everything happening we didn’t get to his mom in time.”

“She didn’t make it?”

“I don’t know, she wasn’t there. But Kyungsoo seems to think she’s out there still. And you can’t find someone if you aren’t looking.”

Chanyeol holds out the mirror again for Jongin to get a good look at his hair. It looks good, Jongin is impressed.

“And the fame,” he continues, “I know it bothers you, but he never wanted that. I’m the one that started calling him the Ilsan Slayer in the first place.”

Jongin nods, soaking in the new information. It explains a lot. He has more questions, but in the next second, Chanyeol pushes him to get up now that he’s finished. He turns Jongin in a circle for the full effect, before kissing his fingers like an Italian chef and sending him off. 

At dinner Jongin’s new hair is a hit; Mrs. Kang tells him that he looks very handsome, Yuri says that it suits him, and Sehun compliments Chanyeol for some reason. 

Kyungsoo chokes on his soup when he sees him, mumbling a small, “It looks...nice,” and Jongin thinks the other man might be blushing with how red his ears are. 

 

 

“Go higher with your right arm.” Jongin adjusts. “ _High_ er.” Jongin adjusts again, retrying the move. “Plant your feet firmly or you’ll have no power.” Jongin does his best to reposition himself for what feels like the fiftieth time. Kyungsoo sighs, “Why aren’t you getting this?”

Suddenly, Kyungsoo is behind him, grabbing Jongin’s arm to position it, while his other arm gets planted firmly on Jongin’s waist. The gesture is strangely intimate for what he’s used to with Kyungsoo. He’s only just started to figure out the way that the other man ticks; Chanyeol’s suggestion knocked some sense into Jongin and it was amazing what they were able to accomplish when the two weren’t shouting at each other. 

“Right…..,” Kyungsoo’s breath ghosts along the shell of Jongin’s ear, making his heart do something funny in his chest, “there.” Without thinking, Jongin snatches his arm away. 

Regret kicks in a moment later; Kyungsoo takes a stunned step backwards while Jongin tries to calm the erratic beating of his heart. He plays it off by clearing his throat and Kyungsoo gulps, his head cocking to the side in question. 

“I got it,” Jongin says, avoiding eye contact. Jongin tries to rationalize to himself that it’s because Kyungsoo was invading his personal space. It’s a weak lie. Trying to understand Kyungsoo more also led to Jongin having to come to terms with the fact that he found Kyungsoo very attractive. When he looks up, he sees the fight brewing behind Kyungsoo’s eyes, opening his mouth only to immediately close it when he seems to think better of saying something. His shoulders sag as the aggression drains out of him; he looks defeated. 

“You bother me, you know that?” Jongin snaps his head towards Kyungsoo, he must have changed his mind about saying something. That was totally unexpected. When Jongin doesn’t say anything, Kyungsoo takes it as his cue to continue, “You can’t just coast on talent anymore--you have to put in the work.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Jongin can’t keep the incredulity out of his voice, but something clicks within him and he finally understands. 

It makes sense--it does--the way Kyungsoo reacts to him. It’s the way others would dismiss him. Other trainees, rivals, and especially anti’s. Sure, Jongin was a dick, he knows that now. He doesn’t blame his managers for leaving him in that supply closet on day one (okay, maybe he does a little, but he kind of deserved it). 

Jongin laughs bitterly, “I can admit that my natural talent made things easier, but that doesn’t mean I never did any work.”

The statement is met with a raised eyebrow, inviting Jongin to explain himself. With a sigh, Jongin drops to the ground, sitting criss cross and making himself comfortable. Kyungsoo joins him, their lesson forgotten. 

“Being famous is a lot harder than it looks.” Jongin ignores the eyeroll he gets from Kyungsoo. He knows how pretentious that sounded but he has a point to make. “Practicing, performing, dieting, running on no sleep--I don’t think I’ve gotten proper sleep in years.”

At this, Kyungsoo laughs. “You should try college.”

“And the media--you get no privacy,” Jongin continues, “You think zombies are terrifying? How about a teenage girl who thinks she owns every aspect of your life. I’m not trying to complain, really. I’m incredibly lucky to have done what I did--I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t ‘coasting on my talent’” Jongin lays back in the grass and throws his arm over his eyes, “And I’m sorry, for acting how I acted.”

“Apology accepted,’ Kyungsoo says as he lays back on the grass to accompany him. Jongin cracks an eye and sees Kyungsoo’s head turned towards him, a tiny smirk playing on his features. “I’m sorry, too.”

“We sort of got off on the wrong foot,” Jongin laughs, “Okay, _I_ got off on the wrong foot,” he amends when Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. The Slayer nods as a way to say ‘there you go’ and the two dissolve into laughter. 

“So, Mr. Slayer,” Jongin begins once they’ve calmed down and have been peacefully watching the clouds for a few minutes. There’s one that kind of looks like a duck--or a rabbit depending on the angle, “What did you do Before? I bet you graduated at the top of your class and got a great job right out of college so you could immediately boss people around. You’re pretty good at it.”

Kyungsoo smiles a secretive smile, still looking up at the clouds. “Close.”

Sounds of the camp carry over to them as they lapse into another comfortable silence. The sun is beginning to set and Jongin watches the children laughing with Soojung across the lawn, playing a game of tag. It’s so soothing that Jongin has nearly fallen asleep when Kyungsoo breaks the silence. He turns his whole body to face Jongin on the grass.

“Can I show you something?”

Nodding, Jongin attempts to get up but Kyungsoo stops him.

“It’s uh, out there,” he says, gesturing vaguely to the gate.

Oh. 

“Oh.”

Taking that as a yes, Kyungsoo smiles. 

“We can go tomorrow. Don’t forget your knife.”

 

 

It would be easy to pretend that the world hadn’t ended if not for the debris that littered the streets and sidewalks. Okay, so the occasional zombie in the path doesn’t help much, but when there were none in sight Jongin could almost imagine that they were taking a quiet, Sunday morning stroll while the rest of the world slept in. 

The debris though--that’s where the facade crumbles. Weeds are growing spitefully out of the cracks in the sidewalks while sticks, branches, and the occasional bit of trash is strewn about. It was eerie how empty everything looked because of it--like looking at a ghost. 

Kyungsoo had been waiting for Jongin at the gate this morning, dressed in all black with a mask on his face just like the first time they had met. He greets him with a “Good morning, Jongin,” startling the idol--who had never heard the Slayer call him by his real name before--and wasting no time in getting them on the road. 

Minseok sees them off with a wave, making sure the gate is closed behind them, and directs a wink at Jongin to thank him for the day off. 

Kyungsoo had absolutely refused to tell Jongin where they were going, only that it wasn’t too far. They’ve reached what was once a much more densely populated area, if the amount of undead milling about are any indication, going against all of Jongin’s ‘run the other way’ instincts. When Kyungsoo turns into one of the five large apartment complexes that they’ve arrived at Jongin asks, “Is this a test?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head and motions for Jongin to follow him inside the building. There’s a zombie at the end of the hall. Jongin is about to say something but Kyungsoo holds his index finger in front of his mask where his mouth is to shush him, then motions to the staircase. He ducks into it quickly and quietly with Jongin trailing, trying to keep his own footsteps as quiet as possible. 

They stop at the third floor. Kyungsoo confidently enters an apartment that looks just as nondescript as the rest except for the potted plant out front. It’s wilted. Like the empty streets, the apartment is a little eerie. The place looks homey and lived in, but it also has the signs that it was vacated in a hurry. Dishes are still piled high in the sink and some of the furniture is knocked slightly askew. Jongin wonders what could possibly be here that Kyungsoo would want to show him. 

He gets his answer when Kyungsoo leads him into what was once, if the bedspread and decor is anything to go by, a young girl’s room. And--oh. That’s his own face staring back at him. Not just once, but hundreds of small versions of himself in various poses and expressions are wallpapered on every available surface of the room. Jongin can only tell that the walls have any color at all because a poster of him dancing in water from one of his 2015 concerts is peeling away, revealing a small strip of pale pink. 

Next to him, Kyungsoo has taken off his mask and is grinning, watching Jongin take in his discovery. 

“Creepy, right?”

As Kyungsoo snickers, Jongin nods absentmindedly, sitting down on the bed that’s covered in probably an inch of dust. There’s a photo on the nightstand of himself with the young girl who must have owned the room. She’s smiling so wide--happiness radiating out of her small figure. Jongin had a lot of fans so it’s understandable that he doesn’t remember meeting her, but all he can focus on is his own look of indifference. God, he wants to punch himself. 

“Minseok laughed himself silly when we found it,” Kyungsoo continues, “It was only a few days after we found you actually. We decided not to tell you in case your head grew bigger than it already was. We didn’t think your neck could support it.”

“Why now?”

“I think you’ve earned it.” Kyungsoo rubs the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “I know that this,” he gestures around the room, “means a lot to you.” He nervously gauges Jongin’s reaction. 

It’s complicated. Jongin looks at the pictures and feels like he’s seeing someone else. His eye catches on a picture that must have been taken when he was about seventeen and he gets up to examine it in more detail. The hair is terrible, but the enthusiasm is so real. Jongin wonders when the ugly part of fame had started to consume him and it makes him want to start over. 

It makes him want to dance again. 

In the end, he’s grateful to Kyungsoo for bringing him here now. Kyungsoo was probably right about the big head thing. He tells him this and Kyungsoo’s answering smile is so bright, Jongin feels the breath get knocked out of him. 

“You’re lucky that you’re famous after the fall of society,” Jongin says when he recovers, “you won’t have to suffer through the mortification of a bad hairstyle.” He points out a particularly experimental look from one of his earlier comebacks that featured an awful lot of chrome in the stage outfits. 

Kyungsoo snorts when he sees the poster, gradually letting out a few more chuckles until he’s finally descending into full blown laughter. Jongin joins him because, well, he really did look awful.

“This one is my favorite.” Kyungsoo is pointing to a photo where Jongin’s unstyled hair is falling into his face and obscuring his eyes.

“How about this one?” Jongin asks, smoothing out the poster that had fallen over halfway. The sensual water dance was one of his favorite performances. On the poster his white shirt was clinging to his torso, face contorted with passion. Jongin recreates the pose for Kyungsoo, lip bite and all.

“That’s very...,” Kyungsoo clears his throat, “very nice.” He finishes. The tip of his ears look pink.

They spend the remainder of the time looking through the rest of the pictures on the wall. Kyungsoo will ask if he remembers anything about the picture and Jongin will give him an anecdote or two, and then try his best to recreate it. Kyungsoo is laughs at him more often than not.

 

 

On the way down they forget to be quiet, drawing the zombie that they bypassed earlier in the hallway to join them by the staircase, along with a few of its friends. 

“Oh, shit.” Kyungsoo says, summarizing their situation quite succinctly. 

They hop up the first few stairs to the landing where the undead are unable to reach them, but they continue to claw at them. There’s about six of them now, unable to reach Kyungsoo and Jongin at the top of the landing. Their moaning and groaning reverberates throughout the stairwell. 

“I guess it’s examination day.” Kyungsoo says, pulling up his mask and lifting the bat from his shoulders. But something in Jongin’s face must tell him to wait. He lowers the bat and encourages the other to take out his knife, “Come on, Jongin there’s only a few. Besides, shouldn’t you be used to this? Think of them like passionate fans in a mob.”

Jongin squeaks out an incredulous laugh, “My fans weren’t usually trying to eat me,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice from reaching a pitch that only dogs can hear. 

“I’ll get the first one and then we can get the rest together.” Kyungsoo’s eyes are alive with excitement as he surges forward to club one of the undead, flipping the switch he seems to have when he goes into Slayer mode. 

He takes a deep breath and focuses on one of the zombies in front of him. Deciding to go for the backhand move that they had been practicing a few days ago, he plants his feet and jabs the knife with all his might into the zombie’s skull. He feels the bone crunch beneath him, but it’s weak, allowing him to cut cleanly through the brain and back out with ease. He represses a gag when the knife comes free, covered in blood and rotting brain matter, but the zombie crumples to the floor, no longer a threat. 

“Nice,” Kyungsoo says, taking a break from bashing the skull of the zombie closest to him. He gives Jongin a high five and gets right back to it. There’s only two left now, Kyungsoo disposes of one with ease and let’s Jongin take the other. The confidence from his previous kill gives Jongin the push to sink his knife through the top of the head of the last remaining zombie. 

As soon as it’s dead, Jongin lets out a shout of relief and does his victory dance--a very bad impersonation of Elvis’ rubber legs--causing Kyungsoo to snort with laughter. 

“What is this?” He chokes out between laughs, “I thought you were the top idol.”

“Are you saying I’m a bad dancer?” Jongin has started exaggeratedly fist bumping to a fake club beat. Kyungsoo elbows him away when he gets too close. 

“I’m saying I like you a lot more now that you’re not being a prick. Now keep it down, or more might come.”

This shuts Jongin right up and Kyungsoo laughs again at his abrupt change in demeanor. He checks the hallways for any more of the undead and motions for Jongin to follow when the coast is clear. Together, they head back to camp.

 

 

Kyungsoo laughs as he recounts their adventure over the few bottles of soju they had broken out of the camp’s storeroom. Minseok pretends that he’s jealous that Kyungsoo got to show him their find and Jongin pretends that he doesn’t notice Chanyeol taking a special interest in the room, asking questions that his best friend would probably had thought weird if his mind wasn’t groggy with excess alcohol. Although maybe Kyungsoo was brushing it off as another one of Chanyeol’s weird storytelling quirks--fishing for details to make the Slayer legend as real as possible.

Jongin catches Chanyeol’s eye and quirks an eyebrow, the latter smiles almost guiltily before turning his full attention to Sehun, who had begun to drunkenly nuzzle his face into Chanyeol’s neck.

The night ends on a happy note when Minseok tries to get a sing-a-long going, but they’re too intoxicated to choose a song or get any of the words right and it ends up being more of a rowdy yelling rather than actual singing. Officially ending when Sehun ends up falling asleep on Chanyeol’s shoulder and Chanyeol starts to scold them when they get too loud and risk waking him up. It’s late anyway. 

 

 

“That’s three, c’mon Jongin. You’re losing.” Kyungsoo has just bludgeoned another one of the undead so swiftly that it didn’t even have a chance. Jongin wasn’t aware that this was a competition. 

“Is this what you and Minseok do?” Unlike Kyungsoo, Jongin still prefers to not go out of his way to deal with the disgusting creatures. 

“Sometimes,” Kyungsoo says with a smile. He had foregone the mask and hat today, instead opting for a black bandana as a headband to keep the hair out of his eyes. It was getting shaggier by the day. It made him look like Rambo, with a baseball bat instead of a gun. 

Jongin didn’t know it was possible to have so much fun killing zombies, but Kyungsoo has lept at every opportunity, dropping the large duffle bags that they had stuffed with all the food they had found so he can take a swing. Maybe Jongin would enjoy it if he was as good at it as Kyungsoo is. 

Currently, the pair are on their way back from a supply run. It hadn’t been too long since they had been out on a run like this but with the camp’s growing population, their stores were dwindling fast and it would be another month before Soojung and Jongin’s garden would be ready to harvest. Jongin had asked if they could try and find some gardening gloves while they were out and Kyungsoo had instead suggested that he join. In the end, to cover more ground, Jongin and Kyungsoo headed East of camp while Minseok and Sehun went South. 

“Can we go in there?” Jongin asks when the bags on his shoulders are making his back ache. There’s a small 7-Eleven on the corner up ahead. 

“All of the convenience stores have been cleared out months ago.”

“Let’s just rest for a bit, maybe we can find a snack.” Jongin whines. His back is aching from carrying their spoils.

Kyungsoo sighs, motioning for Jongin to lead the way. 

They set their heavy bags at the doorway and as always, Kyungsoo is right. The shelves are picked pretty clean, but Jongin is sure that he can find something if he digs. If nothing else, they can sit and catch their breath. 

He’s about to head down one of the aisles when a hint of green catches his eye from the cooler to his left so he changes his course to get a better look. He can’t contain his gasp of excitement. 

“Kyungsoo, it’s a Chilsung Cider!” He shouts, even though Kyungsoo could probably hear him whisper from the other end of the tiny store. “Want to share it?”

“No thanks, I’m good.” Kyungsoo calls back. He sounds like he’s up near the register. Jongin shrugs and opens the can; more for him. 

The drink is warm and kind of flat, but it’s the best thing he’s had in weeks. 

“Hey, Kai,” Kyungsoo calls, his tone is teasing but he hasn’t called Jongin by his stage name since the poster room. “Come here for a second.”

Curious, he makes his way to the register to find Kyungsoo standing in front of the magazines, staring at a rack full of Jongin’s face.

"Everything in there is a lie." Jongin declares as he jumps in front of the rack to stop Kyungsoo before he has a chance to grab one.

Kyungsoo looks at him funny but shrugs and walks away. "Did you find anything else good?"

"Just this," Jongin offers the can to Kyungsoo, "Are you sure you don't want any?"

In lieu of an answer, Kyungsoo waves his hand, but he looks distracted as he inspects the place. Suddenly, he hops behind the counter and starts rummaging around.

"Are you looking for something?" Jongin asks, finishing off the can and throwing it aside. Kyungsoo looks up at him and nods before getting right back to it. "...Can I help?"

Sighing heavily, he gives up his efforts once he realizes that the search is fruitless. "I guess they didn't keep the spare back room key here like we did."

"We?"

The Slayer chuckles awkwardly, "So you might have been a little off base in your assessment of me." He throws his hands up in a weak ta-da motion. He's not looking at Jongin.

"You're lying."

"Nope." Kyungsoo says, popping the 'p' and still avoiding eye contact. And then, as if to demonstrate, he starts a soulless impression of a checkout, punching in a fake order, taking a fake credit card, and ending it with "Thank you, come again," in a dead voice. He could almost pass for one of the zombies.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Kyungsoo asks, finally looking Jongin in the eye.

Jongin nods and makes himself comfortable on the counter.

"Sometimes I'm grateful for it, ya know?" Jongin shakes his head because he doesn't know, not really, but he wants to understand Kyungsoo. "If it hadn't happened I would still probably be working this shit job and amounting to nothing. I feel more alive now than I ever did before."

"What about your family?" Judging from the look on Kyungsoo's face, that might have been the wrong thing to say. Guiltily, Jongin tries to amend himself. "I mean, Chanyeol...he told me that......you're looking--"

"It's stupid isn't it?" Kyungsoo murmurs, squeezing himself next to Jongin on the counter. It’s not very big so their thighs touch. 

"No--"

"It is, I'm never going to find her.” The words take on an air of resigned finality, as if Kyungsoo had been thinking about them for a while and only just now dared to say them out loud. “I should probably give it up, yeah? I know Chanyeol is just humoring me. And now you too, I guess." He turns away to hide the gathering moisture in his eyes. Out of politeness Jongin doesn't mention it. 

Seeing Kyungsoo like this makes Jongin want to tell him that things will be okay and that Kyungsoo will find her, but his realistic side doesn’t want to feed him anymore false hope. Besides, despite what Kyungsoo thinks, he still has a family.

“You have people who care about you. Chanyeol would do anything for you, Baekhyun looks up to you, and I…” he trails off, not sure where he was going but knowing that Kyungsoo has become important to him. “I care too.”

Jongin waits for the sniffles to die down before he speaks again, “Can I ask you a question?” 

Kyungsoo nods, clearly not trusting himself enough to speak. 

“How did you work here and not know who I was?”

The look Kyungsoo throws him would be scathing if it wasn’t for the red-rimmed eyes. Jongin simply waits for a reply.

Finally, he says, “Why are you like this?” And shoves Jongin playfully, the ends of his lips threatening to quirk up.

“It’s a serious question!” Jongin continues despite the assault, and it has the desired effect of making Kyungsoo smile.

He shrugs, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “I never really paid attention to the top idols or whatever, except--oh my god, there was this one song that used to come on the radio a lot. I would dance to it while I mopped.”

This information has Jongin reeling, imagining a serious Kyungsoo dancing around the store after hours. He needs to see it.

“What song?”

“It was called _Danger_ I think. By--”

“Taemin?!” Jongin screeches, “How do you know his song and not mine?”

“Yeah, him!” Kyungsoo confirms, “Do you know him?”

Does Jongin _know_ him? As if every waking hour of his idol life, Taemin hadn’t been right around the corner trying to claim his spot at the top. Jongin reaches back to pluck one of the tabloids from the rack--the same one he had been reading the day they met--flipping through to find the dating rumor. He hands it to Kyungsoo and watches him as he reads for a few seconds in silence. 

“So you dated him?” He looks up at Jongin when he’s finished, “What did he do, break your heart?”

“I. Did. Not. Date. Him.” Jongin feels like ripping out his hair. For some reason it’s imperative that Kyungsoo knows this.

“Oh good,” Kyungsoo says, going back to the magazine, the tips of his ears look slightly red, “Then I might have been jealous.”

Jealous? Jongin tries not to choke. Kyungsoo freezes.

“I can see why you would be,” Jongin tries for a weak attempt at a joke. “I’m very desirable.”

“And very annoying,” Kyungsoo adds, knowing that Jongin won’t let this go.

“Actually, you’re the one who just admitted you were attracted to--”

Jongin doesn’t get to finish his sentence because one second Kyungsoo is mumbling a frustrated ‘oh my _god_ ’, and the next, he’s grabbing Jongin by the collar and kissing him square on the mouth. 

The magazine flaps to the floor when Kyungsoo lets go, the _Louisville Slugger_ that was never not in Kyungsoo’s grip falls to the floor with a clatter. Jongin’s eyes flutter closed instinctively.

Surprised doesn’t begin to cover how Jongin feels about the current developments. Kyungsoo was only just baring his soul to him moments ago, and now he’s kissing him with such fervor that Jongin’s brain starts to short circuit. 

They break apart a moment later, chests heaving, and despite how unprepared for the first kiss Jongin was, he kind of wants to do it again. Scratch that, he _definitely_ wants to do it again. 

Kyungsoo seems to have the same idea and goes in for more, this time pushing Jongin against the register and attaching his lips to the latter’s neck. 

“Wouldn’t this make for a good headline?” Kyungsoo whispers, as his lips travel lower. Jongin does his best to suppress a groan, “ _Superstar Kim Kai Caught in a Compromising Position With Convenience Store Clerk_. It has a nice ring to it I think.”

The corner of the register is digging into Jongin’s back, but he can’t bring himself to care when his body feels like it’s on fire with every touch of Kyungsoo’s hands and every soft press of his lips.

“What was that?” Jongin whispers hoarsely. Through the ringing in his ears, he thinks he heard the sound of footsteps crunching broken glass. Kyungsoo pauses momentarily to give a cursory look behind him. Seeing nothing, he shrugs, and his lips find Jongin’s again, soft and insistent. 

“Kyungsoo.” 

He receives a moan in response, though not from the person in front of him. It echoes throughout the small space and has Jongin tensing. 

“Kyungsoo…,” he tries again, barely audible through the kiss, but Kyungsoo isn’t paying attention, his only reply is a muffled, “Mmm?”

Jongin opens his eyes to find a zombie shuffling towards them, no more than twenty feet away. It’s a tall one, probably a little taller than Jongin himself. Its clothes are reduced to tattered rags and its left eyeball is dangling precariously from its socket. 

It continues to stumble towards them, getting closer with every moment. Meanwhile, Jongin’s brain has stopped functioning--probably due to the fact that Kyungsoo’s hands have now reached his belt buckle. 

Jongin whimpers Kyungsoo’s name in fear one more time, weakly clawing at his chest to finally catch his attention. 

With a heavy sigh, Kyungsoo detaches himself, dragging his lips across Jongin’s. He slides off the counter and ducks down to retrieve his bat; swinging it up in one fluid motion. The zombie’s skull caves in on contact, sending a spray of blood across Kyungsoo’s face. The monster falls to the floor with a thud. 

He stands there momentarily with his back to Jongin, who is still breathing heavily against the register. Kyungsoo turns around slowly, his own chest heaving, eyes still clouded with lust. His hair had fallen into his face, his bandana lying forgotten on the floor, Jongin must have dislodged it when they were kissing. 

Messy hair and hooded eyes give Kyungsoo a look of debauchment and the blood from the zombie landed in a line across his face like a scar. He looks sort of menacing, holding a bat fresh from a kill and Jongin’s brain short circuits. 

“We should really….” Kyungsoo says between breaths, “get back...There might be more of them...lurking.”

Jongin wants to protest but he knows Kyungsoo is right. He nods, swallowing hard and trying to fix his appearance as best he can. It’ll be dark in a few hours and they should make sure they have plenty of daylight to get back home. 

 

 

Jongin lived for the adrenaline rush of a particularly good stage performance. Heart pounding and skin tingling, he could feel the electricity coursing through his veins. It made him feel invincible. 

That’s how he feels now, walking back to camp with Kyungsoo. If he weren’t carrying over fifty pounds in the bags on his shoulders, he might just float away. He’s sure Kyungsoo feels it too, because every few minutes they’ll look at each other and end up giggling like schoolgirls. 

The minute they step inside the camp something is wrong. Sehun is sitting with a distressed looking Junmyeon, Minseok by his side. There’s a wound on his forehead that is leaking blood at an alarming pace. Sehun swats away any of the doctor’s attempts to staunch it. Minseok looks up and locks eyes with Kyungsoo, whispering something to Junmyeon before making his way over. 

“Kyungsoo,” Minseok begins, his expression does nothing to soothe anyone’s fears. “It’s Chanyeol…”

Slipping from Kyungsoo’s shoulder, the bag of food lands with a dull thud, Jongin quickly puts an arm around his waist to steady him even though his own blood has run cold. Instantly, the giddiness is gone. Kyungsoo’s face is drained of all color when he asks, “What about him?”

They told him to wait, Minseok explains, that Sehun would come back and he would be okay and if he didn’t, they would wait for Kyungsoo and form a rescue party. Sehun was smart; if he was in serious trouble, he would hide out in one of their rendezvous points. But Chanyeol took it upon himself to try and find the man alone. They got separated, you see--Minseok and Sehun. The herd was too big to fight off, pushing them in opposite directions. It had happened early in the day, before they even had a chance to find what they were looking for. Minseok had returned hours ago, a bleeding and concussed Sehun only minutes. 

“Chanyeol, he--I think he thought we were taking too long to decide what to do. And that we shouldn’t wait for you to get back to send rescue.”

Jongin chances a glance at Sehun. The cocktail of emotions on his face squeezes his heart. Fear, worry, sadness, guilt. There’s tears mixed in with the blood now. 

“We have to find him.” Jongin says, because there’s nothing else _to_ say. They have to. Camp already feels hollow without his laughter to greet them. 

He turns to Kyungsoo, grip still tight on his waist, to see if he has any sort of plan. He’s barely said anything since they’ve returned. He’s white as a sheet and Jongin is scared that if he lets go, Kyungsoo will crumple. 

More than anything, that’s what scares Jongin. Kyungsoo always knows what to do. Jongin turns to him, planting his hands on the Slayer’s shoulders, “Kyungsoo, we’ll find him.”

Kyungsoo responds with a broken sob, “ _He’s_ my family, too.”

 

 

A small group gathers in the common room a few minutes later. Junmyeon had thought it best that they have this discussion away from the other survivors; with Kyungsoo practically catatonic the worry over their other leader was only getting deeper. 

Right now he’s sitting on the outskirts of their small circle staring at nothing. Jongin wants to say something, but Kyungsoo had only just accepted losing his mother, he can’t imagine what this feels like. 

“It’s getting dark,” Minseok says, and with a wary glance at Kyungsoo he adds, “Do you think we should wait until the morning?”

“He’s such an idiot.” Sehun had finally allowed Junmyeon to tend to him, but had adamantly refused his pleas to get some rest, insisting on joining the discussion. “He knows he shouldn’t be out there with his leg. I’m not that important.” His eyes are filled with unshed tears. 

“You are important, Sehunnie,” Junmyeon says, giving him a comforting squeeze on the knee. “To us, and especially to Chanyeol. Of course he would want to find you.”

“He’s such an idiot.” The fresh wave of tears finally slip down his face in a silent stream.

“Did you say anything about where you guys were when it happened?” Soojung inquires, she watched them on their way to their little rendezvous and decided she wanted to help in any way that she could. 

Minseok shrugs helplessly, “I mentioned that it was near the apartment blocks to the South, but that could be anywhere.”

A flicker of something dances at the edge of Jongin’s consciousness at Minseok’s words. He tries grabbing it before it disappears. 

“The first set of blocks you see?” Jongin asks, “The ones with the green panelling?”

Both Minseok and Sehun nod, eyes trailing Jongin’s form when he suddenly stands from his seat.

“I think I know where he is.”

It’s a gut feeling; one he hopes against hope is right, and he doesn’t want to waste time finding in out. Sehun takes a shuddering breath, Jongin can see in his eyes that he wants to trust him. No one seems to doubt how Jongin knows, but Junmyeon speaks up with another worry.

“It’s too dangerous to go now, the sun has already set.”

“I won’t go alone,” Jongin announces, conviction failing when he looks to Kyungsoo. He’s in the same position as before as if none of the previous conversation had registered to him. 

“I’ll go with you.” Minseok steps in, “I’ve been out there after dark before.”

Jongin nods in thanks. 

“Let me just get my gun and we can go.” Minseok says, disappearing quickly through the door. When he’s gone, Sehun tries to offer his help as well, but what with his injuries he is immediately shot down by everyone present. 

“I’ll stay with Kyungsoo,” Soojung offers, with a reassuring hand on Jongin’s arm. “Just try and make sure you guys come home. All three of you.”

He swallows his own fear before he nods and leaves to wait for Minseok by the gate. 

 

 

If traveling through deserted suburbia during the day was eerie, Jongin was definitely not used to how it would feel at night. Without street lights or light pollution, their surroundings were virtually pitch black. It was only thanks to the moon that they had any light at all. It’s steady climb through the sky was both comforting and distressing in the way it told of time’s passage. 

The sounds of the night were the only accompaniment to their heavy breathing as they ran to their destination without so much as a word. Minseok had accepted the location without question when Jongin had told him it was the apartment with the posters. And Jongin was grateful for his presence. 

Minseok slows them down when they pass the area where the herd had been earlier. They stop to catch their breath while a few of the stragglers pass by. The building looms at them through the darkness just ahead of them, so as soon as it’s clear they make a run for it.

Inside, the victims of Kyungsoo and Jongin’s last visit still lay at the bottom of the staircase, rotting and putrid; Jongin sidesteps them to make his ascent. 

“Would you mind staying out here to keep watch?” Jongin asks when they’ve reached the correct apartment. He remembers the dead plant.

“Shout if you need me,” Minseok nods, holstering his gun to instead draw his knife. He crouches at the door looking dangerous.

Jongin can’t help the sigh of relief when he enters the room and finds the tall figure sitting on the bed, bathed in moonlight. He looks rather sad, but thankfully otherwise unhurt.

“Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?” 

Chanyeol, who had tensed when the door opened, relaxes at the familiar voice.

“You were gone so long I forgot how ugly you were,” he jokes back. A beat. “Can you believe Yoora was just like this?” He gestures around the darkened room to the posters Jongin knows are there. He can hear the sadness in Chanyeol’s voice so Jongin joins him on the dusty bed.

“He’s okay.” Jongin tells him. “He came back a little banged up, but he’s alive.”

“I’m an idiot.” Chanyeol sighs, looking slightly offended when Jongin laughs. 

“It’s just…..that’s what he said too. About you.” Jongin adds the last part for clarification. He knows Sehun would want the story told right. 

They lapse into silence, both staring at the moonlight that filters in through the window and thinking different things. Or maybe they aren’t so different. If Jongin weren’t so caught up in himself and Kyungsoo, perhaps he would have noticed the way Chanyeol looked at Sehun and the way Sehun looked right back. 

“So Sehun, huh?” Jongin teases, and Chanyeol finally looks at him, tiny smile in place, “Did you know that he talks in his sleep?”

“I did know that, actually,” Chanyeol hums.

“And you like him anyway,” Jongin shakes his head with fake dismay, “Gross.”

“You know, you worried us all.” Jongin adds with a nudge when Chanyeol’s only response is a lovesick smile. 

Chanyeol scrunches his face up in guilt, but instead of addressing Jongin’s statement he says, “I’m glad Kyungsoo has you. You shaped up, finally.” Jongin narrows his eyes, how could Chanyeol possibly know about them? Also he's deflecting. Noticing Jongin’s confusion, he shrugs. “He’s my best friend, he tells me everything.”

“We all have each other,” Jongin amends, “And it’s gonna stay that way.” 

His tone speaks no argument so Chanyeol is forced to concede.

“Now enough with the sap, Minseok is waiting for us.”

He helps Chanyeol off the bed and allows him to use Jongin as a crutch on the way out. When they reach the hallway, Minseok gives him a light smack and tells him to never do that again, but it’s more fond than anything. 

Once they’re done establishing that Chanyeol is safe, they make the decision to head back to camp in the morning. It was far too dangerous just coming here and with Chanyeol in tow, they need to be extra careful. As much as it would soothe the worries of everyone at camp, it would be wiser to ensure that they made it back in one piece.

 

 

Dawn trickles through the windows of the apartment complex, waking Jongin from a rather restless sleep on the couch. Minseok had taken the bed in one room and Chanyeol had claimed the room with the posters, which was fine with Jongin really, he’d rather not sleep with himself. But it meant that he had to take the couch.

He watches the sun rise for a few minutes and then wakes the others so they can go home. Minseok and Jongin trade off supporting Chanyeol as they walk, keeping an eye out for the undead when they're off duty.

Yuri is manning the gate with Joohyun when they arrive, she opens the gate and wordlessly throws herself into bear hugs with all three of them. Minseok seems pretty pleased when he gets an extra ten seconds. And although they’re not close, Jongin can tell Joohyun is relieved too.

For the early hour, there are a great many more people awake then there would usually be. Jongin figures that most of them must have stayed awake all night. They greet them as they past, with gratitude and exclamations of how happy they are that they've arrived back safely, but Jongin is only looking for one person. He leads Chanyeol to the common room where they had all met last night.

Kyungsoo and Soojung are still where Jongin left them on the couch; although Soojung seems to have coaxed Kyungsoo to lay his head on her lap where he eventually fell asleep. She smiles at them when they arrive, gently nudging Kyungsoo to wake up.

He sits up groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes. They go wide when he sees Chanyeol and in a second, he's scrambling from Soojung's lap and engulfing him in a hug that's one part loving and another part name calling. Jongin thinks he hears the word 'idiot' thrown in there a few times.

"Looks like we're all in agreement then." Chanyeol laughs.

Jongin does his best to slink away and stand by Soojung's side.

"Not so fast." Kyungsoo says, pulling away from Chanyeol. Jongin thinks he's going in for a hug but he's surprised when Kyungsoo kisses him.

It's short and Jongin is flustered when Kyungsoo pulls away. Chanyeol has the audacity to look smug when he has his own love life to worry about.

"Where's Sehun?" Chanyeol asks, rubbing the back of his neck, looking rather sheepish. This had all been for him after all.

"Junmyeon finally convinced him to rest for a bit," Soojung informs them, "That boy is stubborn though. He's in the hospital wing probably still giving Junmyeon grief."

With a guilty but grateful smile, Chanyeol is off. Soojung follows close behind, excusing herself politely; she hasn't slept all night either.

When she’s gone, Kyungsoo detaches himself from Jongin’s side so he can look him in the eyes. “I don’t know what to say….how to thank you.”

It was disconcerting to see Kyungsoo freeze up the way he had, but now that he knows how important family is to him, it isn’t surprising.

“You don’t have to,” Jongin tells him. “He’s my family, too.” 

Wordlessly, Kyungsoo melts into a hug, burying his face in Jongin’s chest. 

 

 

Dinner that night is a celebration. Jongin and Kyungsoo had managed to bring back enough food that they could spare a little extra for a party, and the overwhelming relief within the camp seemed to call for it. Mrs. Kang manages to make their regular provisions better than they are, but tonight their cans of spam and beans feels gourmet. 

It’s a temporary relief from the horror that now greets them beyond their walls, and tomorrow would be another day they would have to survive as well, so sometimes it was necessary to let loose. 

Baekhyun nearly has an aneurysm when he sees Kyungsoo and Jongin holding hands. Junmyeon has to thump him on the back so he doesn’t choke on his beans. Jongin can hear him chanting something about this being the best day of his life when Chanyeol suggests that he perform a song for them. 

It takes little convincing for Jongin to start the impromptu dance routine. He had missed the thrill of performing--even if it was for a ragtag group of survivors at the end of the world. But that little group had become his family and he wouldn’t change it for anything.

 

 

It's been ten months since the end of the world; since the televisions went silent and the dead joined the living in the streets. It’s been ten months since the end of the world, but it’s only been seven months, two days, and nineteen hours since the Ilsan Slayer saved Kim Kai from a thoroughly looted grocery store. 

Jongin remembers the bitterness of no longer being the favorite, of finally coming in second place. And in the end, all the hard fought lessons had been worth it because he was here with Kyungsoo. 

“What are you thinking about?” Kyungsoo asks through his scarf when he notices Jongin smiling. 

The weather is getting colder by the day so Jongin and Kyungsoo are on a quest to raid some closets. 

“Nothing much,” he says, blowing hot air on his hands to warm them, “Just--”

BANG. 

A gunshot sounds from up ahead. Jongin and Kyungsoo freeze, listening for more. 

Sure enough, there’s a bit of shouting and a burst of more gunfire. Sharing a look, they sprint ahead to find the source. 

Kyungsoo slows to a halt, throwing out his hand to stop Jongin as well. Sometimes people were worse than the zombies; it’s best to be safe. But as soon as the turn the corner, it’s apparent that the man is alone and in danger. He’s been overrun, knocked to the ground by the zombies he hadn’t managed to kill while his gun lies uselessly out of reach. WIthout hesitation, Kyungsoo barrels forward. 

He aims for the chest of the first one, hitting it just enough so that it gets out of the way and kicks the second one. Jongin, who is following closely behind swiftly takes care of the first with a clean slice and moves on to the second, who had stumbled and fallen, driving his heel into its decaying face. 

The man is still struggling underneath the final zombie, doing his best to hold it at arm's length as its teeth snap at him. Kyungsoo tries shaking the sting out of his hands from the previous hit and gears up for the final zombie, planting his feet and swinging away. This time he hits it square on the sweet spot, knocking the head clean off. 

He offers a hand to the man, sliding him out from underneath the headless corpse and lifting him to his feet. 

“So much for zombies being slower in the winter,” the man grumbles, still bent over double to catch his breath. “Thanks though, I was a gonner.”

He straightens up to shake hands, pushing his knit beanie out of his eyes with one hand and holding out the other. Kyungsoo stares a beat too long, confusing both Jongin and the man, before tearing the scarf away from his face. 

“Yixing?” 

“Kyungsoo?” A small smile is blossoming on the man’s face alongside the bewilderment. “Are you...are you the Ilsan Slayer?”

“You could say that.”

“I should have known it was you with a swing like that.” Yixing responds. “Dude, you’re totally famous! I gotta tell Jongdae.” 

Kyungsoo, who was starting to fall into his habitual shyness when any mention of his Slayer identity was brought up, perks up at this. “Jongdae’s alive?”

“Yeah!” Yixing all but yells, but the excitement falls from his face at the thought of his missing friend. “He was supposed to be keeping lookout. It’s just been us two on our own for a while.” He’s glancing around as he says this, probably wondering why Jongdae hadn’t answered any of his distress calls. 

But suddenly there’s a figure scrambling around the corner, sprinting headlong towards them. 

“My friends from college,” Kyungsoo explains as the figure gets closer, there’s a brilliant smile on his face. He knocks on his bat. “We played baseball together.”

Jongin watches Kyungsoo’s friends almost flatten each other with the force of their hug. When they break apart, the man who must be Jongdae begins dumping apologies.

“I’m sorry---I was---they were---” he breaks off, his breath puffing out in little clouds. 

“It’s okay, Jongdae,” Yixing consoles, “Look who found me and look who he is!”

Kyungsoo gives a tiny wave and the realization that dawns on Jongdae’s face as his eyes travel from Kyungsoo’s face to his bat is almost comical. 

“Holy _shit_ , dude!”

Jongdae wastes no time pulling him into his own bone-crushing hug, and then taking Kyungsoo’s bat and inspecting it for himself when they let go. Yixing and Jongdae fawn over it in complete awe and Kyungsoo allows them. He looks so happy.

Jongin who had been standing awkwardly to the side allowing the old friends to catch up, is suddenly nudged forward by Jongdae.

“Who’s this?”

He’s looking at him, bright and friendly, but there’s absolutely no recognition in his smile. Jongin turns to Yixing. He, too, only holds curiosity in his gaze. Come _on_.

Kyungsoo smiles his secretive smile.

“This is Jongin.”


End file.
